The Ice Queen
by badguthrie
Summary: Aeria Winters, 13 years old, has been rescued by the Avengers from her prison, where she was tortured and tested because of her powers. Aeria's desperately trying to be accepted as an Avenger, but when a familiar threat arises and her past comes back to haunt her, more and more lives are being threatened. Aeria knows one thing: there's only one way to win the war. Her death.
1. Chapter 1

_Loosely set after Spider-man: Homecoming. AU where Rhodey wasn't hurt. Peter is part of the Avengers, and Tony, Thor, and Clint are still part of it. They are in the tower. This is just a pilot - if it does well, I'll continue._

Chapter 1

A little girl was screaming.

That's what it sounded like.

A scream.

And it was a scream, and it was a little girl.

Her name is Aeria Winters and she just turned three on May 4th. She is a wonderful child, with a bright smile and vibrant blue eyes and pale skin and unusually white hair. She never cried when she was a baby. She is innocent, pure.

Sorry.

Was.

Aeria Winters was screaming.

The sound was nothing a child should make. It was brutal, blood-curdling, loud yet quiet. It was like a silent cry, a desperate weeping. It was a scream of a little girl with blood on her clothes and pain in her mind.

Her name is Aeria Winters. She just turned five on May 4th. She was a quiet child, with a frown and dull eyes and matted white hair. Her body was riddled with scratches and places where needles were stuck in. She is still innocent, still pure.

Sorry.

Not so much.

Aeria Winters was whimpering.

It was almost a cry, but not really. More like pain bound up and let loose, like a thread, being led out through a hole, spilling out slowly, like a leak in a dam. Not all at once, not at all.

Her name is Aeria Winters. She just turned 10 on May 4th, but she didn't know it. She was a silent child, with a blank face and blank eyes and dirty, matted, long white hair, though it didn't seem that white anymore. Her body was riddled with scars and open wounds and bruises, her face red, her arms and legs bound in tight, painful, burning cuffs. She didn't talk, because if she did she would be hurt. She didn't move, because if she did she would be hurt. She didn't even dare to use her powers, because if she did she would be hurt. Being taken to the White Room became a routine for her. Experiments. Tests. Needles, radiation. Pain. Pain was always there. She is still innocent, still pure, still happy.

Sorry.

That's wrong.

Her name is Aeria. She just turned… what was it? 12? 13? 14? 13, right? She counted the scratches around her, on her arms. 13. What day was it? She counted the scratches on her legs, the floor, the walls. May 4th. 2017. How many years ago was she taken? She was three. It was 2007. 10 years.

Aeria tried to remember why, when, where she was taken.

 _Slow it down,_ Aeria thought, closing her eyes. It only became darker. _Take it slow. Come on, A. Think._

Why.

She didn't know why, exactly. Why she was found. She knew it was because of her powers - her powers of winter; ice and wind and snow. But how was she found? _I lived with my parents before,_ Aeria remembered, smiling softly to herself. Her parents were distant memories, their names and faces faded. But there were still traces. Scents. (Lemon and vanilla. Aeria knew that she smelled like lemon and vanilla too, as one of the guards informed her after grabbed her arm and sniffing her hair. She didn't think she smelled anything other than dirt, blood, and chemicals.) The touch of soft fingers against her face.

She knew that she was taken to be tested in a lab, in a prison. She knew that she wasn't normal.

When.

Aeria knew she was taken a couple weeks after she turned three - in the middle of May, at the end of the week. It was raining. No, storming. She remembered the bright flashes of lightning illuminating the darkness and the roaring thunder that made her flinch. She remembered the wind whipping against her face.

Where.

Where was she when she was taken? Where was she now?

Aeria distinctly remembered the scent of pine trees and the comfort of a warm, crackling fire. A cabin, then. In the woods somewhere in someplace in some country. But where was she now? Where was the lab?

No, not lab. Prison. A prison specifically designed for her. A lab where they could extract blood and stick needles in her skin and cut out flesh. She never saw any other prisoners - just her. She had been moved from cell to cell throughout the years and had settled one with white walls and white floors and invisible lights overhead. A way of torture was switching off all the lights for days and days. No one would visit her, no one would talk. She would be in complete isolation for weeks on end, sitting there, in the dark. She always wore special chains around her feet and hands and arms and legs, along with a collar on her neck, to keep her from using her powers or doing anything suspicious.

Aeria had learned not to move around that much - sometimes not move around at all - for fear of being hurt. Shocked, stabbed, whatever else the guards had in mind. Anything else.

She learned not to talk. For five years, her only words had been _No, thank you, sir. Thank you, sir. Okay, sir. Yes, sir. Yes, sir. Yes, sir. Yes, sir._

 _Yes, sir._

 _Yes, sir._

 _Yes, sir._

 _Yes._

If she talked without permission, she would be hurt. She would let them do anything they'd like. Torture her for fun. Torture her for science.

Her name is Aeria. She is broken. Damaged. Sad. Silent.

Sorry.

But it's true.

* * *

"Hey, Tony," said Rogers, his voice quiet. "Do we have a plan?"

"A plan?" came Tony Stark's voice, slightly mechanicalized from him being in his suit. "Uh. Yeah. Of course, we do. Why wouldn't we." A beat of silence. "Natasha, do we have a plan?"

"It's always me cleaning up your messes," Natasha grumbled. "Sam, you're with Cap. Go left. I'm with Tony and Wanda. We're going right. Rhodes, you're with Thor and Clint. Straight."

"You heard her," Tony said, chuckling slightly. "Let's go."

He flew overhead, Natasha and Wanda running beneath. It was snowing heavily, the air gray and thick with flakes, making it hard to see. Ice clung on to trees like claws. They were deep in Canada's wilderness, thousands of miles from civilization. And yet Fury sent them here. Wanda seemed to read Tony's mind.

"Why did Fury send us here?" she asked, leaping over a fallen tree branch. Tony frowned, dodging a pine.

"He said that there was some activity going on in a compound here."

"What compound?" Wanda asked.

"Didn't say," Tony replied with a scowl. "He did say, though, that we're going to pick something up."

"I'm guessing he didn't say what," came Rhodey's voice over the intercom.

"Nope."

Tony, Natasha, and Wanda slowed as they came to the edge of a cliff. So far, they had avoided any sort of security - no guards, no soldiers. Nothing. _I don't like this,_ Tony thought to himself, narrowing his eyes. A building came into view.

"JARVIS, scan for life forms."

"Scanning." A visual appeared in Tony's vision of colorful bodies patrolling the grounds and inside the compound. "It's heavily guarded," Tony said. "Even though there weren't any in the forest."

"Which is weird," said Rogers.

"What are we doing then?" Wanda said, inching forward. "Let's go."

"We do need a solid plan," Natasha muttered. "We can't just run in guns blazing. You know what happens when we do."

"Usually it works out in the end," Tony contemplated.

"Not with a number of casualties."

Tony grimaced.

Buildings falling.

Children screaming.

Blood.

Dirt.

Darkness.

 _Oh, Yinsen. I'm sorry._

"Good point," he said lightheartedly. "It's heavily guarded."

"From what I can see, there are three points of entry," said Thor. "Not including if Tony smashes through the wall."

"Which is highly likely." Tony grinned.

"We'll take the front," Natasha said. "Cap, you guys got the side, and Thor, Clint, and Rhodes?"

"We'll get the back," Clint confirmed.

"Ready?" Tony asked, smirking. "Let's go."

Natasha and Wanda skidded down the rock face, along with Clint and Rogers, while the rest flew down - and caught the guards' attention, and they opened fire.

"Hey, Tony," Steve Rogers said, blocking a swarm of bullets with his shield, "Where's that kid you recruited? Uh, Peter Parker?"

"He's still in the tower," Tony replied. "I made him catch up on some homework."

"He still goes to school?" Natasha said, taking control of one of the tanks. "Does he even have time?"

"I make him have time," said Tony with a grin. A missile fired in his direction and he shot it down, kicking a couple soldiers to the ground and blasting a tank to pieces.

"JARVIS, what are we looking for?" Tony asked the AI.

"Director Fury said to look for anything out of the ordinary."

"You mean a compound in the middle of the Canadian wilderness?"

"I don't know, sir. He said to look for the girl."

"The girl. Alright guys," Tony said, raising his voice. "We're looking for the girl."

"What girl?" Clint grumbled. "I bet there are tons of girls here. Is there any specific girl we're looking for? Brown hair, maybe? Six feet tall? What girl?"

"Like always, Fury -"

"Didn't say," everyone finished in unison.

They broke past the first wave of security and penetrated the entrances. Tony blasted through a group of men in white coats while Natasha and Wanda took out the guards.

"Keep going!" Tony shouted, kicking back a soldier and punching another in the jaw. Natasha grabbed one of the white coats and pulled him close to her, her fist hovering in front of his nose.

"Where is she?" she snapped. "What is this place?"

"Where's who?" the man whimpered. "I don't - I-I work in tech. I don't know! P-P-Please don't kill me."

"What is this place?" Natasha growled. The man stayed silent. After a few more moments, Natasha smashed her fist against his face and he collapsed.

"Fan out," Tony said, knocking out a few more guards. "We have to find a girl."

"Why, exactly?" Wanda muttered.

"I'd think you would've learned enough to know that there's no point in asking questions," Natasha said, leaping onto a scientist's back and twisting around, using him to knock four more to the ground. Tony grabbed hold a guard whose face was already thick with dark blood.

"Where. Is. The. Girl?"

The guard grinned, blood running over his teeth.

"She'll kill you," he whispered, his voice hoarse. "She's a monster. A monster."

"Where is she?"

"You don't know what you're getting yourself into," said the man. Tony punched him once - " _Where-"_ again - "Is-" and again - "The-" and again - "Girl?"

"Tony!" Natasha shouted. "Stop! He's not going to tell."

"A monster," the man repeated before his eyes closed and he crumpled to the ground.

"Tony!" Rogers yelled, coming into Tony's view. He was down the hall, fighting back a swarm of guards. "We found something!"

It was an elevator.

An elevator.

"What floor?" Tony asked once they had all piled in. Clint cleared his throat.

"Bottom, please."

"Yessir."

It took five minutes to get to the bottom floor. Then the doors dinged and slid open, and chaos erupted.

"Find her!" Tony shouted as he was hit by at least a dozen different bullets. "Sam, Cap, and Wanda stay in the back. The rest, go!"

They made it through metal corridors, dozens of layers of security, down three flights of stairs, until they came upon…

yet another elevator.

Again, Tony asked what floor.

"Negative 1, please," said Clint.

"You got it."

And when the doors slid open, it revealed- well, nothing. Nothing but what seemed like one long, endless hall, the floor and ceiling white.

"What is this place?" Natasha breathed out. Thor led the way forward.

Halfway down the corridor, they came across a covered glass window, at least thirty feet across and fifteen feet up, with a control panel to the side. Tony hesitantly pressed a green button labeled _open black,_ and the black cover disappeared.

"Oh my God," Clint whispered.

It was a girl.

 _The_ girl, apparently.

Huddled in the corner, her amazingly blue eyes wide and quivering and bloodshot. Her arms and legs were wrapped in glowing, humming white chains, along with a collar around her neck. She was wearing gray rags, revealing her pale, scarred skin. Or maybe the rags were white, once, and were turned gray by blood and dirt over the years. Because she was bleeding.

Her long white hair was matted with blood and grime, her face and skin smeared with it. Many wounds were still yet to close. Her wrists were wrapped in white, bloody gauze, as well as her ankles and other parts of her limbs.

"They said she's a monster," Tony whispered.

"She's a girl," Clint said numbly. "A child."

"Look," Thor said, pointing at a label beside the window.

"God, it's like she's an exhibit," Wanda murmured.

"Aeria Alexander Winters," read Sam. "Born May 4th, 2004. Thirteen years old. Height: 5 foot 3 inches. Acquired: Friday the 19th, 2007. Reasons: Displays ice, wind, snow powers. Chart -" Sam paused, holding a hand to his mouth.

"Wilson?" Tony said quietly. "What is it?"

"Monday," Sam continued, "Monday. 8:00 AM. Shock therapy. 9:00 AM. Extract blood. 9:30 AM. Inject. 10:30 AM. Extract flesh. 11:45 AM. Shock therapy. 1:00 PM. Guard torture."

"Stop reading," Steve said. "Stop."

Sam flipped through the file on the wall. "April 2017," he read. "Subject has been in pitch black isolation for two weeks. We slide one piece of bread and cup of water in morning, a cup of soup at night. Subject is yet to speak. If it does, we will emit burning radiation through walls. June 2017. Subject is unconscious after radiation. It's head -"

"Sam, shut up," Natasha growled. The girl slowly moved her head and looked up at them.

"She sees us," Clint murmured. "Someone open the door."

Silence.

"Open the goddamn door!" Clint shouted. Tony pressed another button and the window disappeared entirely. The girl flinched and shrank back into a ball.

"We're scaring her," Natasha said. "Guys, put your weapons away. Tony, show your face. She doesn't know who we are."

"I know."

Their heads all snapped to the girl, whose head was raised. Dried flakes of blood fell to the ground as she moved her lips. Her voice was hoarse, quiet like it hadn't been used in years. It probably hadn't.

"I know you," she whispered. "They let me watch news. Once. Once a week." She drew in a shaky, raspy breath. "You are the Avengers."

"That's right," Tony said softly, kneeling down. "We're here to save you."

Aeria shook her head. "No," she said and coughed. "No. I can't be saved. I can't. I can't - I'm a monster. Stop, get away. I'm a monster."

"No, you're not," Wanda said, smiling. "You're not a monster."

"They'll hurt me," Aeria whimpered as Tony moved forward to undo her chains. "No. Stop, please. They'll hurt me. They'll kill me. They'll hurt you."

"You're safe now," Rogers said. "We promise. They can't hurt you anymore."

The collar buzzed as Tony moved to take it off, indicating it had emitted a shock. Aeria didn't even whimper.

Eventually, they got the restraints of her and she collapsed into Tony's arms, shivering and shaking and weak.

"We got you," Tony said, holding the little girl close. "We got you."

 _Thanks for reading! Please review - it motivates me to continue._


	2. Chapter 2

_Thank you all for reviewing! It honestly made my day (and night)! I couldn't stop smiling._

Peter Pan-Once Upon a Time: _Thank you for being my first reviewer! Even though I love Marvel, I'm not a huge follower - I have to look up facts, timelines, etc. So the fact that I (apparently - according to you) caught the essence of the characters made me more confident._

wolfimus prime (awesome name by the way): _I know! I especially like characters with painful backgrounds. That's why I love Tony Stark so much._

nightmarehunter676: _Thanks for reviewing! I am going to try and keep going, but when school starts it'll be harder for me to update._

guest 1: _MOTIVATION TAKEN_

guest 2: _I'm so happy you like my story! I can't wait for you to find out what happens! :)_

Chapter 2

The hard part was getting out.

As soon as they set foot out of Aeria's cell they could see a wave of soldiers running at them full-speed, guns blazing.

"Put it down," one guard shouted. "It is dangerous and powerful."

"It's a monster!" many other guards yelled, firing at them.

" _It_ is _she,_ thank you very much," Clint said, shooting a round of arrows at the front line. Tony scooped Aeria up (who was frozen with fear) and flew overhead.

"Let's go!" Tony shouted. Aeria clung to his suit, her small hands wrapped around his neck.

" _I'm not afraid,"_ Tony heard her whisper. " _I'm not afraid."_

"You're okay," he murmured.

Then a force knocked him to the ground and she fell from his arms.

"Aeria!" Tony yelled.

The fighting had slowed.

A soldier roughly grabbed Aeria by the hair and dragged her up, holding a gun to her head.

"Make a move, and she dies," he growled softly.

"Sir," JARVIS said, "What -"

"JARVIS, shush."

"Yes, sir."

"We were giving orders to rescue this girl from your compound," Tony said. "We can't leave her here."

"Yes, you can," the man said. "And you will. And you, you little freak."

He looked right into Aeria's eyes and spat at her face. Aeria cringed and struggled uselessly against the soldier, her legs kicking and her fists pounding against his chest.

"You've been a very bad girl," the soldier snarled. Tony clenched his fists.

"Let me go," Aeria whispered. The soldier smirked and slapped her across the face - once, twice, three times.

Aeria blinked and met his eyes.

"I am not afraid of you." Then a silvery mist swirled around her hands and the soldier screamed as his body turned to ice - and he exploded into little shards of crystal ice.

"Holy shit," said Clint.

And suddenly the girl was a fighting machine.

She shot bolts of ice from her fingertips. She spread ice across the floor and walls, freezing the other guards. She kicked and punched and clawed and blasted the hell out of all of them, and then as soon as it started - it was over.

Aeria collapsed.

"Let's go," Nat said, but they made no move to pick Aeria up and escape. They were shocked into silence.

Finally, Sam said, "We should probably figure out what this place is."

"I didn't see any labels on weapons or anything," Rogers said. There was a quiver in his voice.

"And you're not going to investigate any further," came Fury's voice over the intercom. "You are to leave this compound without any inquisition. You are to take this girl back to the Tower and care for her."

"What -" Tony started, but the intercom was silenced.

Natasha stepped forward and jostled the girl's arm a bit.

"She's unconscious," Natasha confirmed.

Tony picked her up again.

"Let's go," he said.

They left the building without any trouble. It was like it had been abandoned. The girl was still asleep, her body limp and light.

They flew back (again - no trouble), resting Aeria on a cot in the middle of the quinjet.

"So," Rogers began, tapping his fingers on his knee. "What the hell just happened?"

"Ooh, the Captain swears," Thor mutters, leaning against the wall. Tony stood from his seat, having changed out of his suit and into a torn black shirt and pants.

"Does anyone have any experience with kids?" Tony asked. Clint raised his hands.

"But I got my own children to look after," Clint said, raising his eyebrows. "You know I'm not going to be here all the time."

"We already got one kid," Natasha said, glancing at Tony. Iron Man frowned.

"What? He's hardly a kid. What is he - seventeen? Eighteen? Twenty? He's eighteen, right?"

"He just turned sixteen," Clint said. Tony's frown deepened.

"Ah. Well, I mean, he can look after her."

"Do you even _know_ Peter Parker?" Thor said with a chuckle. "That boy gets himself almost killed every night. Besides, this girl has obviously been through trauma. She's going to need a mother figure."

All heads turned to Natasha.

Her mouth fell open and she raised her hands, shaking her head.

"No," she said. "Uh, no. I'm not looking after a thirteen year-old girl - especially one who has SHIELD potential. You know that's why Fury wants her, right?"

Silence.

Natasha continued.

"It's because she's a weapon." Her voice grew harder, sharped. "She's powerful. She's like us, guys. And Fury doesn't care how old she is."

Silence.

Then, "Well, you're really good with _my_ kids," Clint said. Natasha rolled her eyes.

"No. I'm not going to be responsible when she's killed."

" _When?"_ Steve echoed. Wanda sighed.

"She's right, you know," Wanda said. "Fury doesn't care. He sees something powerful, something strong, and - well. You know."

"Well, if Mr. Director Fury tries to make her an Avenger, I'm gonna -" Tony said.

"We know," Natasha interrupted.

"We know," Rhodey repeated.

The girl suddenly gasped and sat straight up, catching all of their attention. She looked around, her eyes narrowing.

"I lied," she said hoarsely.

"Lied about what?" Clint asked tentatively. She turned and looked at him, right in the eyes.

"I am afraid."

And she collapsed again.

* * *

Peter was working on his algebra homework upside down when they got back.

"Hey, guys, what's up? Ooh, who's that? Whoa. Who's that?"

He webbed over to them, grinning and still holding a calculator in his hand. "Is that a -" his smile faded. "Holy - who is that?"

"We get it, kid," Natasha grumbled. "You want to know who it is."

"Let's get her down to the medical wing," Tony said.

"Careful," Rogers warned. "We don't want to scare her anymore.

"Yeah, I do want to know who it is," Peter said, climbing up the ceiling to get a better view. Aeria was strapped onto one of the e-vac tables. "Crap. She's - oh jeez, what happened to her?"

"We don't know yet," Tony said.

"Well, we have an understanding," Thor corrected. Tony looked at him, looked him right in the eyes, and said - slowly, calmly, "I'm sure we don't know the half of it."

And they were right.

They didn't know the half of it.

Peter followed them down to the medical lab, asking question after question about the mission, about the girl, asking why she had all those scars, why she had blood on her face, why there was gauze everywhere, who she was, and so on. Then he started jabbering on about how algebra was going, along with Spanish and British literature and made a few witty jokes about how school related to that girl.

Et cetera, et cetera, et cetera.

The girl - Aeria was her name, they should at least start calling her that, thought Tony - laid unconscious on that table for two more days, not stirring, not opening her eyes. Her heartbeat was faint, her vitals low yet stable. Peter didn't stop asking questions.

"So she has winter powers? Wow! That's so cool! She's like Elsa! What's her name? It's Elsa, isn't it? Aeria? That sounds like a Game of Thrones name. Her last name's Winters? Aeria Winters with the ice powers. Ha! That's funny. Aeria Alexander Winters. That just rolls off the tongue, huh. Oh! I got a 97 on my Spanish test, Mr. Stark. I studied real hard for it. Happy told me to shut up, but I know he's proud. Where's that scar from? And that circular one around her neck? A shock collar? Wow. Oh. Oh, God."

There was a scar around her neck. It was from the shock burns. And there were scars around her wrists and ankles, too. From the binds. And there were the scars from where they extracted flesh and permanent holes and bruises from needles. There were jagged scars where the guards were just having their fun.

Nat cleaned her hair, making the grayish strands turn back to a brilliant white. She and Wanda both awkwardly gave her a sponge bath while she was unconscious, washing the grime and blood off her skin, changing her into a new pair of clothes.

"There are… an unknown amount of internal and external wounds," said JARVIS on the second afternoon. "Not to mention she will experience Post Traumatic Stress and emotional damage."

"Anxiety, you mean?" Rogers said. "Anxiety disorders?"

"Panic attacks, anxiety attacks," Natasha said. Tony stiffened.

 _Oh, Yinsen. I'm sorry._

"But she isn't a soldier," Rogers said with a frown. Tony shook his head, both sadly and regretfully.

"You don't have to be a soldier to be wounded in battle," he said.

Then, on the morning of the third day, Aeria woke up.

She didn't say anything, nothing at all. Her eyes were wide with shock as she took everything in - the Avengers (including Peter, who managed to shut up for a minute) surrounding her, the beeping of the machines, the tables, the tools. It must have reminded her of the compound.

"It's okay," said Natasha. "You're safe now. We're not going to hurt you."

Aeria glanced at her, her lips pursed. She looked down at herself - at her new clothes (gray sweats with the Avenger logo on the side and a loose white tee), at the IV sticking out of her arm, at the wrapped wounds.

After a few hours of examining her in awkward silence (even more awkward than the sponge bath, as she was awake now and was obviously terrified), they moved her upstairs. She was weak, her legs shaking (correction: her whole body shaking) and her fists clenched. Her hair had been combed and wrapped in a braid that reached the middle of her torso. After careful consideration, Tony decided that she did indeed look like Elsa.

"You wanna eat?" Tony asked her. She shivered and didn't say anything. "We got, uh, cereal. And milk. Blueberries. Oh, and a couple chocolate bars, if you want them. Peter, get the blueberries and chocolate."

"Can I have some chocolate?" Peter asked.

"No. Here, you want some chocolate? It's pretty good. What is this - Hershey's. And some Reese's Peanut Butter Cups. Those are good."

Aeria glanced at the food and looked up at them, still shaking. Natasha brought a blanket over, but she didn't take it.

"Maybe if we leave her alone she'll take it," Rogers whispered. And so they did just that. Without a word, they left and headed over to the bar, where they proceeded to watch her through the security footage.

Aeria was obviously scared of doing anything wrong, as before she would be hurt. But she seemed to realize that she was 'safe' (if anyone who was in the Avengers' care was safe) and stood up, her fingers grazing the blueberries, and walked over to where the chocolate was kept. She opened the door and grabbed the box. Then, opened the fridge door and grabbed the carton (which was a large carton, to say the least) of raspberries.

Then she sat on the floor in front of the window that overlooked the immense Manhattan skyline and began to eat.

She had gotten through four chocolate bars and one and a half whole cartons of raspberries (yes, she had gotten up to get more) before the Avengers decided something needed to be done before Aeria drowned in berries and Hershey's.

Aeria held the box of chocolate(s) and multiple cartons of raspberries close to her chest as the Avengers walked back into the room.

"It's okay, we're not going to take them from you," Clint promised. Peter stepped forward.

"Hey, can I have a Milky Way? They're my favorite."

Hesitantly, Aeria handed him a king-sized Milky Way bar.

"Man, thanks! Love these. Hey, Mr. Stark, do you have any wheat cakes? I mean, I love Milky Way bars, but wheat cakes… man."

"Hey, kid," Tony said, holding up a hand. "Dial it down. You're at, like, a 7 -"

"Which is a new low for me," Peter said triumphantly.

"Yeah. But still too high. So you're at a 7, and you need to be at a 4. You're kind of freaking her out."

Wanda took Aeria up to her room a few minutes later and returned back down, where they all started to discuss.

"Well, we have a brief explanation of why Fury wants her," Steve sighed. "Except… why do _we_ have to take care of her?"

"You think SHIELD has time for a kid?" Sam scoffed.

"You think SHIELD cares she's a kid?" Nat retorted. Tony cleared his throat.

"Whether they care she's a kid or not, she's still a minor - which means they still have to - technically - take care of her. So, Fury leaves her with us." He shrugs. "She'll still be trained under SHIELD, we'll just be the ones with the hard job."

"This is so cool!" Peter exclaimed, biting into his Milky Way bar and talking through chews. "Cause - I mean - I finally have someone who's my age around!"

"You're three years older than her," Tony told him.

"You're thirty years older than her," Peter replied.

"Thirty-four, actually," Rhodey contradicted. Everyone laughed.

"I need a drink," Tony said, standing.

* * *

Aeria laid awake in her new bed, in her new clothes, in her new bed, in this new place.

Was she safe?

Probably not.

They'd probably want to keep her from using her powers.

Good.

She didn't want to hurt anyone with them.

Why did they want her?

Her powers, most likely.

She was dangerous.

She was a monster.

She was afraid.

Aeria fell asleep sometime later, though she didn't know it. No one really knows when they fall asleep, now do they? It happens quickly. Slowly, unsure at first. Then, in a blink of an eye,

a dream.

She was dreaming, though she didn't know it. No one really is ever aware of a dream, are they?

She _was_ dreaming, and she _really_ didn't know it.

She was back there.

In the lab.

In the prison.

 _Head White Coat stood over her, a knife in his hand._

" _Interesting," he murmured, caressing her cheek with his thumb. "Such an interesting girl. Oh, Aeria. You have no idea how special you are."_ Please don't touch me, _Aeria thought. She smiled at him but didn't nod, didn't speak. Any sudden movements would trigger a shock, trigger pain._

 _Head White Coat pressed the knife into her flesh and carved into her like he was drawing into her bone. Aeria closed her eyes and blocked the pain, but it was too much, too much. Too much._

 _The dream changed like she stepped through a veil into another world._

 _She was in another lab, the Other Head White Coat beside her. He was injecting acid into her blood._

 _He was injecting acid into her blood._

 _Her blood was on fire._

 _And she was screaming, and the pain was there, and the darkness was there, and everything was there except it wasn't._

 _It wasn't._

 _But the screaming and the pain and the darkness and everything was there, and she was screaming, she was screaming, she was screaming so loud it only made the pain grow, the darkness grow blacker, and everything seemed nothing and nothing seemed everything and_

 _and_

 _and_

 _and_

Aeria woke up screaming.

Her screams woke up the rest of the tower, who rushed to her room. She kept screaming.

Oh, how she screamed.

It was brutal and painful and beautiful and piercing and bloody and horrible all at once.

"Aeria," Tony whispered, grabbing her arms. She was panting and crying and screaming. The area around her was frosted over. "Aeria. Listen to me. It's okay. You're okay. You're here. You're fine. You're safe. Focus on my voice, Aeria. Focus on my voice. Okay? Focus."

"Hurt," Aeria screamed. "Pain. Acid. Fire. Blood. Hurt, screams, pain, darkness. Blackness. _Help."_

"You're not there anymore, Aeria," Tony said. "I promise. You won't ever go back there, ever again. Not ever again. You won't go back ever again."

"They hurt me," Aeria said, her face slick with tears. Her voice was still hoarse, still raspy. "They hurt me. They smiled at me. They touched me."

The Avengers sucked in their breaths as she continued.

"The acid in my blood," Aeria whispered. "And the knives. And they would leave me in the darkness forever. Alone. In the silence. In the black. They would laugh. They would cut me. Acid in my blood."

"You're not there anymore," Tony whispered, smiling. "It's okay. You're not there. You're here. Right now. Now. Focus on the now, Aeria. Focus on the now. Right now, you're right here. Breathe. Focus. Breathe. Focus. Repeat."

Later, Steve Rogers asked him where he learned that.

 _Oh, Yinsen. I'm sorry._

* * *

 _My update schedule will be a few times a week, though it might slow down to once a week or so when school starts. Anyways, please FF &R as always! Have a great day everyone, and stay smiling!_


	3. Chapter 3

_Hey y'all! Thanks for the support!_

Peter Pan-Once Upon a Time: _Thank you for reviewing again! Made me smile :)_

Wolfimus Prime: _I understood that supernatural reference. Thank you. Thank you for mentioning my favorite show in the whole world ever. Thank you. And yes, Fury is an assbutt._

 _Hope y'all enjoy this chapter!_

Chapter 3

They had lost the girl.

"Boss is gonna be mad," muttered one guard. He was slumped against the wall, waiting for his hand to thaw out so he could move.

"You think, Andrews?" another guard scoffed. Andrews rolled his eyes.

"Look who's talking, Phillips," Andrews muttered.

"Alright you two," said another. "Cut it out."

"How are we gonna explain this to the boss?" Phillips whined. "We lost one of his kids!"

"Probably gonna get fired," one of the guards mused.

"You kidding me, Thompson?" Andrews growled. "We know too much! We're not going to get fired. We're going to get killed!"

"We could get converted," Thompson said, raising one of his eyebrows.

"Please," another scoffed. "We're not qualified enough."

"Sooner or later, everyone will be converted," said Thompson. "Why wait for us to be?"

Andrews shivered at the thought of being one of the Soldiers. But Thompson was right; sooner or later, they were all going to be one of boss's Soldiers. It was only a matter of when.

* * *

It was Friday at noon in Manhattan.

Beautiful afternoon.

The city was bustling with moving bodies, honking horns, piles of trash on the sidewalk, construction humming across the street. The sky was a clear blue, almost no clouds. The snow was melting slowly in piles on the side of the road, slipping off into puddles that flowed down to the sewer.

The city was crowded, no doubt. Even in February, people were sporting the dresses, the skirts, the shorts, the loose jackets. People were still ice skating in Rockefeller center.

Annie Wamball just scored a 100 on her French test. If she keeps up her straight A's then she'll get a car at the end of the year. She was asked out by her crush today, which was awesome. Jacob Graham - every girl at Annie's high school's dream. And _she_ scored him! There was no doubt that Jacob would pick her, though - what with her flawless skin, her blonde hair with its beach waves, her sparkling green eyes.

If the day could get any better, she found a 20 dollar bill on the street. When she went to go get some chocolate with it, she was the 5,000th customer at her favorite candy shop, which meant that she could get free candy for the whole week.

So Annie Wamball was having the best day of her life. She was heading home, her backpack full of chocolate and her arms weighed down with the weight of all the bags.

Then came the screaming.

Annie looked to the sound, her mouth agape.

Out of the sky came a torrent of raging blackness, a swarm of darkness, of night, of _shadows._

Panic descended as soldiers emerged from the black cloud and began the destruction of Rockefeller Center - and Manhattan.

Annie watched in horror as the soldiers cut through the crowd, sporting weapons Annie had never seen before. Swords - glowing black swords, and black lasers, and black guns with black bullets that tore through flesh.

Blood turned black spilled onto the streets, onto the ice, onto the sidewalk. Annie was frozen to the ground. The chocolates were somehow not in her arms anymore. She was stuck there, silent, watching, waiting, as death erupted all around her.

She watched as a child was taken from its mother, wailing and screaming, and was impaled with a blade.

She watched as a pregnant woman was thrown to the ground in a stampede and trampled to death.

She watched as a man - a husband, a father, a son - was shot in the head. His blood painted the wall.

She watched as buildings succumbed to black fire.

And she watched, she watched, she saw the bullet enter her stomach.

She fell.

The darkness closed in.

 _I just wanted a caramel,_ she thought.

* * *

Three days later, the Avengers were all enjoying _Frozen_ (Peter Parker's suggestion) on the big screen. Aeria was quiet, her body scrunched up in the corner of the couch, in between Peter and Natasha. She was munching on more chocolate and raspberries, creating little creations with them - breaking a piece off of a 3 Musketeers and sticking it in one of the berries, then popping it in her mouth.

She had barely said anything since that night.

"She's still in shock," Tony said earlier, during a meeting with the Avengers. "Just…."

"Try not to scare her," Nat finished. "She's fragile. Scared. Traumatized."

"So Peter, don't be… you," Tony informed him. Peter had nodded, and he genuinely looked like he understood.

"Got it," he said with a nod.

So there they were. Watching Frozen, Peter making comments about the movie, Aeria eating chocolate and raspberries, Steve Rogers and Thor asking questions about everything (Thor had only seen a couple movies in his lifetime, and never an animated one - same with Rogers), Tony talking about every little detail gone wrong.

Aeria watched the movie with wide eyes, taking it all in. By the time Anna had found Elsa she had devoured six candy bars and was working on the seventh.

 _Good thing we practically have an endless supply,_ thought Tony, watching her.

Then an explosion rocked the tower.

"What the hell?" Rogers muttered, flying to his feet, along with everyone else (except Aeria. She was still sitting, confused, scared, in shock, still hungry.). Peter webbed over to the window.

"Holy crap," Peter muttered. The others crowded over.

Smoke was billowing over the city. The screams of innocents, of people being slaughtered, were distant but there. The sound of buildings being toppled. The choking scent of the smoke that was present even though they were all the way here, in the tower.

And a message, written in black fire, etched on the skyline.

 _TELL THE GIRL I'M COMING_

"Suit up," said Rogers.

* * *

Aeria was left alone in the tower after the Avengers left.

She thought maybe she could finish Frozen - after all, eating raspberries and chocolate was a good movie snack, and she had never seen an animated movie before (or had she ever heard music in a movie, or seen a movie at all, actually). But Frozen wasn't the best movie - even she knew that.

So she turned the TV off and shakily explored the tower.

Aeria didn't dare leave the floor, so she stayed around the TV and kitchen, her fingers grazing every piece of furniture. She stayed far away from the bar - the scent of booze was all too familiar.

"Hello?" she called. Maybe someone was still in the tower, like Peter. He seemed nice enough - he was funny, and made Aeria laugh on the inside. And Tony Stark was protective of him. She had overheard them arguing about whether or not he was allowed to go.

"It's dangerous!" Tony had whispered, but his voice was loud, like a shout.

"So?" Peter whispershouted back. "I've been an Avenger for almost a year now! I've gone on missions! I stole Captain America's shield! I can handle this!"

"Aeria needs someone to stay with her."

"Aeria, do you need someone to stay with you?" Peter had asked, turning to her. Aeria had shaken her head.

"No," she said.

"See?"

"Don't drag her into this," Tony warned.

"You just did. Besides, she has JARVIS."

"JARVIS isn't a babysitter," Tony replied.

"Actually sir, I am more than capable of babysitting," JARVIS said. "Afterall, I have been taking care of you for over thirty years."

"You're not a butler anymore, _Edwin_ JARVIS," Tony muttered. "Fine. You can go."

Now Aeria was alone. "JARVIS?" she called tentatively.

"Hello."

Aeria jumped. "Who are you?" she asked.

"I am JARVIS - Just A Rather Very Intelligent System. I used to be the Stark family's butler."

"Used to be? Were you converted into technology?"

"Sorry. I am based off of Edwin Jarvis."

"What are you now?"

"I am an artificial intelligence. Mr. Stark's AI. I do everything he wants, personal and public affairs. Especially things that involve technology."

Aeria sat down on the floor and bit into a Snickers. She glanced at the label - _you're not you when you're hungry._

Well, she thought, I'm not me, and I'm hungry.

She kept eating but didn't feel anymore her. Just a little less hungry.

Aeria wandered over to the fridge and pulled open the door, shivering as the cold washed over her. She spotted a bowl of mushed up green stuff with specks of red.

"Edwin, what is this?" she asked.

"You don't have to call me Edwin. That is not my name."

"It was," she said.

"That is a bowl of guacamole. It is best eaten with chips."

"I think my hand will do just fine," Aeria murmured, scooping out a clump of the guacamole with her index finger and licking it up.

"This is my new favorite thing," she muttered. "Chocolate and raspberries and guac-guacamoles?"

"Guacamole, Miss. Winters."

Aeria stiffened. She hadn't heard that last name in a long time.

"Aeria," she said. "Please."

"Of course."

Aeria finished off the guacamole a little while afterward and stood, yawning.

Something was wrong.

She whipped around and ducked just as a metal arm swung at her head.

Aeria screamed and scrambled back, her body cooling down. _No, no, no,_ she thought frantically. _Stop. I don't want to._

"Who are you?" yelled the arm. Wait - it was attached to someone. A person. A man with long, shaggy black hair. And a metal arm. Aeria sprung to her feet and raised her hand instinctively when he swung again, catching the arm.

The man's eyes widened and he glanced at his arm, then at her.

"How'd you - you're a kid!"

"My name's Aeria," Aeria squeaked and let go of his arm. Frost was already starting to creep up the front. "Um, they brought me here a week ago. Who-who are you?"

The man clenched and unclenched his fists, raising his eyebrows. "My name's Bucky Barnes," he said, holding out his hand. Aeria hesitantly shook it. "Have you ever heard of the Winter Soldier?"

Aeria nodded. She felt like she should be scared - she'd heard the stories and everything, she'd seen the destruction, but she wasn't. She wasn't scared.

And she smiled.

"That's funny," she whispered to herself. Bucky narrowed his eyes.

"Sorry, what?"

"My, uh, last name is Winters," Aeria said with a shrug. "And I can do stuff related to -"

"Winter?" Bucky finished, nodding at his frost-encrusted arm.

"Sorry about that," Aeria muttered. "Are you an Avenger?"

Bucky shrugged. "You could say that," he said. "Are you?"

"No," Aeria said, shaking her head. "No."

"Why are you here?"

"They brought me here."

"Yeah, but _why?"_

"Oh." _Jeez, how do I tell him? Should I even tell him?_ "I was in a compound my whole life because of my - my powers."

"Oh," Bucky said quietly.

He understood.

"You must have been very afraid," he said.

Aeria shrugged with a slight smile.

"You get used to it," she said hoarsely.

"Mr. Barnes, the Avengers are wondering if you are back from your trip," came Edwin JARVIS' voice.

"Tell them I'm coming," Bucky said. He glanced at Aeria before turning away. "You want to come?"

"They wouldn't like it," Aeria muttered. "It's dangerous." Bucky shrugged.

"So?"

Aeria declined again and turned the TV back on, switching to the news channel. She didn't move until she heard Bucky leave. They were broadcasting footage of the fight going on by Rockefeller Center.

"Who would name a center 'rock-a-fella'?" Aeria murmured.

* * *

Meanwhile, down at rock-a-fella center, the battle wasn't going so well.

Tony's mask had been ripped off and was buried beneath the rubble. Clint was running out of arrows - quickly, and none of them seemed to make a dent on the soldiers. Nat was bleeding heavily from her right leg and left arm. Peter was surrounded - cornered against a wall, his web shooter malfunctioning. They were all running out of energy, whereas the soldiers seemed to becoming more powerful.

Oh, the soldiers.

They seemed to be made out of shadows - literal shadows, and they had power none of them (the Avengers, at least) could comprehend. Peter watched helplessly as one grabbed a child from an escaping crowd and sucked the life out of him.

It _sucked the life out of a child._

It placed its hand on its chest and drew back slowly, with it brought back a coil of silver. The child collapsed and the soldier devoured its lifeforce.

Its body was shaped like a man's, except more slender, more agile, and taller. They had no armor and their weapons were not attached to their body - they seemed to extract their blades and their guns just by reaching into the air.

Black mist curled off of their forms and burned to the touch. So yes, they were like shadows.

They _were_ shadows.

"Cap, look out!" Clint shouted, shooting an explosive arrow at one soldier. It dissolved into the mist and only made it angrier.

Cap swung around and hit the advancing shadow soldier in the head. It hissed, recoiling.

Iron Man blasted through a group but a few minutes later they reformed again.

Some were solid, some were pure mist. Peter leaped onto one of the smoldering buildings, escaping the soldiers, and climbed through the window.

"Kid, what are you doing?" Cap shouted, but shut up once he emerged, a little girl clung to his back. And as a soldier approached the girl yelled and kicked her little foot into where the soldier's groin would be - and apparently, it was still painful, as the shadow yowled and dissolved into mist.

"Bucky Barnes! Glad you could join us!" Thor said, summoning another bolt of lightning.

Tony gritted his teeth. _Yeah,_ he thought to himself. _Real great._

Bucky, Cap, Nat and everyone else had been excused of their crimes, but Tony still hadn't excused Bucky. And why would he? The Winter Soldier killed his parents. Sure, Howard Stark was a horrible man, but Tony - Tony never said goodbye to his dad.

Anyways.

"I met our newest recruit," Bucky shouted, smashing through a shadow with his fist. "She seems interesting."

"She's not a recruit," Tony muttered.

"She will be," Bucky responded.

"She's a kid," Clint shouted. "Shit. I'm out of arrows. Anyways, she's just a kid. 13 years old."

"What's her story?" Bucky asked.

"She was tortured," Natasha replied, shooting down a couple soldiers. She was panting and sweating (along with everyone else, of course), her hand clutched on her arm. "Tested because of her powers." Pause. Then, "We think maybe she'd been trained."

"Trained?" Bucky echoed.

"She's powerful," said Rogers. "And she knows how to fight."

"I realized that," Bucky muttered. "So. Trained as a weapon, then? A soldier?"

"Guys," Peter Parker said, emerging form the building, coughing violently. "There's a bunch of people in there. There's a lot of smoke, and fire and I-I think a lot are already dead."

"Peter, rest for a minute," Tony said.

"No!"

"I'll check it out with Sam and Wanda. Clint, restock on arrows."

"I'm coming," Peter said, standing. He stumbled forward and doubled over, hacking.

"No you're not," Tony said. "Take a breather. Wilson, Maximoff, come on!"

Peter groaned and slipped his mask off. His face was smeared with sweat and smoke, but he had a look of fierce determination on his face and he dove back into the building.

Then.

Suddenly.

It was over.

There was a tornado of black, a swarm of night, and the soldiers disappeared in a flash of inky light.

The Avengers stood there, in rock-a-fella center, confused, disoriented, bleeding and exhausted.

"We got the last of them out," Tony Stark shouted, carrying two little kids in his arms. "Whoa. What the hell happened? Where'd they go?"

"They're… gone," Peter said, blinking. "They just disappeared."

"Well they can't be gone," Thor snapped. "They must be somewhere."

"No," Natasha said, raising her head. "No. We got the message. They'll be back, just not now."

"They're here for the girl," Rogers said, sliding down the side of a wall. "For Aeria."

"I'm still confused on who - _what_ she is," Bucky said.

"Who she is," Tony growled, glaring at him. "She's a person. She's not a monster."

"I never said she is."

"We rescued her from a compound that was torturing, testing, and training her," Clint said, rubbing a wound on his shoulder. "Most likely those… things are related to the compound."

"Who was running it?" Bucky asked. Clint shrugged.

"We don't know."

"So you just… left? With the girl? Knowing nothing about what happened, who she is?"

"Fury told us to leave," Steve said. "We had no other choice."

"Did she say she'd been trained?" Bucky asked. They shook their heads.

"But there was no other way she could've learned how to fight," said Peter. "Right?"

Silence.

"She's just a girl," Tony said, his voice hoarse. "A little girl."

Silence.

 _FF &R as always - especially review, because (I don't know how this sounds) but for some reason, I value reviews over everything else. Positive feedback and overall cool reviews are appreciated! Thank you!_


	4. Chapter 4

_Thank you to everyone for reviewing/following/favoriting! The support has been overwhelming!_

Peter Pan-Once Upon a Time - _Thank you! I would love it if you reviewed all the time. :)_

Guest - _Thanks for reviewing. It's cool, I understand. Honestly, I'm just glad you're enjoying it._

Chapter 4

They found Aeria making guacamole in the kitchen.

There were avocados - some empty, some untouched - scattered around the floor, on the table. It was an unbelievable sight. There must've been a hundred avocados. The air was burning with the scent of onion. Tomato juice was dripping off the counter into red puddles. Bowls and bowls of guacamole were lined up on the island. Aeria was practically covered in the green mush, but she was smiling - she was _smiling._ Her face was lit up, and she had guac on her hands and in her hair, turning the strands green, but she was happy.

She was happy.

She looked up and saw them staring at her and dropped the bowl, which shattered, spilling half-mashed avocado all over the floor (not like there wasn't any already).

"Uh," she started.

Peter started laughing hysterically and scooped out a bunch with his hand then licked it off.

"Holy crap!" he mumbled. "This is amazing!"

"Get some chips," Tony said, still staring at the girl. She was still staring at him. She seemed embarrassed and she was silent.

"It's fine," Rogers said with a grin. "We're not mad."

Her body language relaxed and she her bright smile returned.

"I like it," she said quietly. "The guacamole."

"Well, we would think so," Thor said with a laugh.

Aeria sat down on the ground (on a puddle of guacamole) and placed three bowls on the ground, while Peter put down three bowls of chips.

And they ate.

They sat around, on the ground, with chips and guacamole, and they ate.

Aeria was smiling.

It was something they had never seen on her before - not like this. She had said only a few sentences since she had arrived, and now she was talking. She was _talking._

"I enjoy chocolate and raspberries and guacamole," she told them. "But only those

three foods."

"You need some protein," Steve Rogers said. Aeria blinked, looking confused. "Uh," Rogers stuttered. "You need other varieties of food. Otherwise, you won't be healthy."

"I know what protein is," she muttered. "I was - I had _some_ tutoring."

And then, and then Aeria looked him in the eyes and said (and she said, to this super soldier who was a hundred times larger than her - she looked at him and said), "The only foods I've ever eaten are pieces of bread and different types of soup. I think I deserve chocolate and raspberries and guacamole."

"That you do," Tony said, stuffing a chip down his throat.

They were all still fully suited, save for their masks. They used Cap's shield as a table. Sam used his wings to scoop up guacamole. Peter used his (renewed) webs to refill the bowls. Thor used Mjölnir to smash up more avocados. They told stories, making Aeria smile more and laugh.

Then

in a quiet voice

Aeria asked, "They're coming for me. Aren't they?"

Silence.

"Do you know anything about them, Aeria?" Natasha murmured. "Anything at all? Did you see any labels on any weapons?"

Aeria hesitated as if thinking about the question. She was. She was searching through her mind, searching through every bit of information, every painful memory.

"Stark," she finally said. Tony nearly choked on his chip.

"W-what?" he stuttered.

"They were talking about how the boss doesn't like Stark," Aeria said. "I don't know why. But they said they didn't like Stark."

"Lot of people don't," Rhodey muttered. Clint elbowed him.

"So… is this personal?" Rogers asked. Tony blinked.

"Uh. I - I don't know why it would be. I've never, like, talked to a little girl before. I'm not a big fan of kids."

"We know," they all said.

"They're small agents to you," Clint said with a wink.

"Anything else?" Nat asked. Aeria shook her head.

"No," she said. "Sorry."

"Don't be," Wanda said with a smile.

They ate in silence for a few more minutes before Aeria said, "What are you going to do with me?"

Silence.

"W-what do you mean?" Tony stammered. Aeria glanced at him, her eyes clear and blue.

"You obviously had a reason for why you rescued me," she said.

"Our orders were to find you and take you to our headquarters," Steve Rogers told her.

"But why? Who gave the orders?" Her head lowered. "SHIELD. It was SHIELD, wasn't it?"

"How do you know about SHIELD?" Peter asked, still eating guacamole. Aeria glanced around furtively.

"I told you," she muttered. Her eyes seemed to cloud over. "I watch the news." She blinked, looking back up, looking back up into all their eyes. "You want to train me," she said slowly. "You want me as a weapon."

"Aeria, that's -" Rogers started, but Aeria cut him off. Her hands were shaking and she started to clench and unclench her fists.

"You want me as a weapon," she said. "Just like them. You want me to kill people."

"That's not what - no," Tony said firmly. "No. I promise you, Aeria Winters, you're not a weapon, and you won't ever be a weapon."

"My name is Aeria," Aeria said fiercely, her mouth hard and her eyes cold. "My name is Aeria."

"Aeria," Natasha said softly, "You're not a weapon. You're not a monster. You are a girl. We aren't going to train you to be a weapon. We want to train you to be an Avenger."

 _Whoa,_ Tony and almost the whole room thought. _She's too young._

That night the Avengers had a meeting - without Aeria.

"What the hell Nat?" Clint said. "She's a kid! She's 13!"

"14 soon," Natasha reminded him.

"Still!"

"She'll be killed," Rogers said.

"She's powerful," Bucky mused. Everyone turned to him and he shrugged. "What? It's true. She's powerful, and you all know it. It'll take a lot of force to bring that kid down. Besides… she's strong. She's tough. I can see it in her eyes."

"Well that's awful poetic of you, Mr. Barnes," Tony said, "But we're thinking realistically here. Yes, she has probably had training before. So we know that. But she is a _kid,_ and we have a _responsibility_ to protect her. To keep her alive. These… _things_ want _her._ "

"If this was a story that paragraph probably has a lot of italics," said Peter.

"Fury is going to train her anyway," Natasha said. "We better start get a kick start - a _good_ kickstart. You know what they'll do to her."

"I can teach her to control her powers," Wanda offered. "Nat and Clint can teach combat."

"And what?" Tony scoffed. "She'll become an Avenger after? Is that even legal?"

"Legal?" Sam repeated.

"Can we all be honest here?" Peter said loudly. They turned to him. "Villains don't care if someone's a kid or not. You saw what happened today. So why should we care?"

"Because we're _human,"_ Tony growled.

"Fury doesn't care whether or not she's a 13 year-old girl," Peter continued. "I mean, I sure do, but -"

"You're the same age as her," Tony interrupted.

"But Fury? But SHIELD? They don't give a shit whether or not she gets hurt in battle," he said. "And don't you all pretend that they will. They just care whether or not she's a useful weapon."

And there was no denying it.

* * *

They didn't talk about training for a week.

At night, Aeria would wake up screaming. She would wake up the whole tower with her screams. It became a routine for them - a rather embarrassing and painful one for Aeria, of course. When it would happen Tony and Natasha and Peter would get an alarm, and they would each talk to her softly, over the intercom. They would calm her down. Tony and Natasha would calm her down. Peter would tell jokes to make her laugh.

And it was a routine. After a while, the Avengers stopped getting angry over waking up. Tony, Nat, and Peter certainly didn't care that she woke them up. After a while, the Avengers stopped getting angry - and started feeling genuinely horrible for Aeria.

Six days later.

Little Tommy Timpson was enjoying the best lollipop in the world

Like, really.

It was so amazing there were no words to describe the amazingness of it all. Each lick was bursting with flavor. The rainbow colors never seemed to fade, which was like magic to little Tommy Timpson (even though - and bless his heart - it was just added preservatives. But who knows. Maybe it was magic.).

"Mommy, look!" Little Tommy Timpson said, pointing up at the sky. Mommy Laura Timpson smiled down at her son (a toothy-smiled, bright-eyed joy - her her world) and took his hand.

"What is it, Tommy?"

"Look! What is it? Up there, in the sky!"

Still smiling, Mommy Laura Timpson glanced up at the sky.

A scream erupted from her throat.

* * *

"There's been another attack," Rogers said, striding into the room. "Or rather, an attack in progress. Suit up."

"Can I go?" Aeria asked, standing. There was a speck of chocolate on her cheek. "Please?" Her voice was quiet. "This is my fault, anyway."

"It's not your fault," Tony said, turning to her. "It's not your fault, so don't you dare think it is. And no, you're not coming. Too dangerous."

" _I'm_ dangerous," Aeria argued. "I should come! I _have_ to come!"

"You don't have to," said Natasha. "And you're not going to."

Bucky lingered around after everyone had left. Aeria stared at him, her scarred arms folded over on themselves. She looked fierce, this little thing, this little broken girl. Fierce and strong.

Bucky winked.

Aeria grinned.

"Don't kill yourself," he said and ran out.

Aeria glanced down at her clothes - she didn't have a suit, just sweat pants and baggy shirts.

"Do I need anything else?" she asked out loud. Maybe a weapon? she thought. Or… a shield? _Wanda doesn't have any weapons,_ she reminded herself. _Why should I?_

So she left in sweatpants and a baggy shirt.

It seemed like the right thing to do.

…

Aeria hadn't flown in years. She hadn't tried after they used those iron-hot chains to yank her down and pin her to the ground for days. She was afraid to try - not because she was afraid it wasn't going to work (of course it would work - it was a part of her). Because of PTSD, bad memories, that sort of shit. _They can't hurt me,_ Aeria thought. _It's okay._

She opened a window on the third floor and took a deep breath. The wind was cool today, fresh and bitter. And smokey.

She took a step forward into open air, her eyes closed.

Nothing happened.

No pain.

No hot, unbearable, burning pain.

She was flying.

It was awkward, at first. She felt stupid, flying around with sweatpants and a baggy shirt flapping in the wind. She didn't know how she should look - should her arms be tucked in, or should they be out? Should she be running or gliding?

So she pretended like she was jumping - and in a way, she was, leaping from building to building, running barefoot against the side of walls, vaulting off of balconies and wires. Some people looked up in wonder, some kept running. The smoke was becoming overwhelming.

Aeria hovered for a bit, coughing, her hand held up to her mouth. She could see the black fire and the black shadowy-figures down the street, slowly making their way up.

"Nope," she muttered.

She blasted through a cluster of shadows, her frost freezing their burning mist. Aeria fought past the perimeter, freezing as many as possible. Already she felt weakened, her arms and legs growing limp as if all the muscles were dissolving.

She kept going until she saw one of the Avengers.

"What the _hell_ are you doing here?" Sam Wilson shouted, slicing through a few shadow soldiers with his wings. Aeria froze them before they could reform.

"Helping," she said breathlessly.

* * *

One minute Tony was pinned to the ground, shadows ripping apart his suit, the next they crumble into black flakes of ice with Aeria Winters standing over him.

"What are you doing?" Tony gasped, stumbling to his feet.

"Saving you," she replied with a smirk, and she disappeared before he could say anything more.

And suddenly things were turning around.

They drove the shadows back to where they had appeared - union square. Aeria shivered, taking it all in. She'd only been outside a few times in her life - at least after she was taken.

There was that one time when she almost made it.

They took her outside once, for training. Decided it was too dangerous.

But she had never seen a city before, not like this. Not in real life. The buildings were towering over her, in flames. Trees and bushes were peppered around the area, in flames.

People.

In flames.

Aeria felt her body growing colder and colder, her skin turning paler with a hint of blue. She shuddered, fear pricking her heart. _Control. Control._

"Control," she repeated softly, biting back a scream as one of the shadows grabbed onto her shoulder, burning into her flesh. She felt her power awakening, rumbling down deep inside her, yearning to be let out. "Control."

"Aeria!" Tony yelled. Aeria threw the soldier off her back and turned to face him.

"What?" she called.

"Get - go back - you're not allowed to be here!"

"You're not my dad," Aeria said back.

"How do you even know that phrase? You've been imprisoned - Aeria, it's dangerous!"

"I thought we made it clear that I'm also dangerous," and with that, she summoned a burst of power from the pit of her own consciousness, and let it travel through her, travel through her arms and her fingers and the palm of her hand, and let it spill out in front of her, let it swirl and twist and ravage around the shadow soldiers, turning them white.

They were burning.

Burning cold.

The others paused and stared at her in shock, and she stared back, confused.

"What?" she said.

"Is there any way you can put these fires out?" Clint shouted. Aeria raised her arms and dropped them in defeat.

"It's not water!" she yelled. Clint shrugged.

"So?"

Frowning, Aeria turned away and channeled her energy onto the burning trees around her.

"It's… different," she said. "It's not regular fire."

"Concentrate!"

"You all should get back to fighting," Aeria snapped. She closed her eyes, inhaling sharply. _Everything can freeze._

She caught the fire mid flicker, a collection of black flames encased in a silver gloss. She was breathless, sagging. Used up.

"Aeria, come help me!" Peter called. Aeria turned to him, panting. Spider-Man was hanging out of a window, smoke billowing out behind him. Aeria nodded and ran to the building.

"Stop!" Tony shouted from somewhere nearby. "Aeria, the smoke -"

"Shut up!" Aeria replied and dove into the buildings.

She was immediately engulfed in choking black flames. She doubled over, hacking, but kept running.

"Help!" someone wailed. "Help me! I can't move!"

Aeria stumbled through the flames, burning them cold as she passed, brushing off the flakes of frost (or maybe frozen ash) as they landed on her skin.

"Where are you?" she choked out.

"Here! Help me, please!"

Aeria found the voice huddled in a corner on the first floor. A middle-aged woman was behind a mountain of collapsed beams, wrapped in a wall of black fire. Aeria stumbled, weak and limp, succumbing to the smoke. She tried to tried to summon enough power to put out the flames but it wouldn't come. The heat of the fire was getting to her, warming her up. Not to mention she was already exhausted.

"You have to jump!" Aeria cried, her voice cracking.

"My son! Where's my son?"

"Take my hand and jump!" Aeria said, sticking her hand through the flames. Pain flared in her hand up her arm as the flames licked away at her skin, burning away the gauze that was already around her wrists, revealing old scars. Having powers meant having more durability, but even so - her flesh was burning.

"Where's my son?"

"I'll find him. I just -" another beam fell, catching Aeria's foot. She let out a whimper. "Take my hand," she said. "Please!"

The woman did.

"Get out through that entrance!" Aeria coughed, pointing, her hand smoldering. "Go!"

"Find my son," the woman sobbed, stumbling through the wreckage. Aeria grabbed hold of the burning beam and groaned, her muscles straining.

"I got it," said Peter, suddenly appearing and helping to lift the beam off her leg. Aeria mumbled a thank you and hid her wrists before he could see. "Crap. That looks bad," he said, pointing at her leg. "Check it out later."

"Go," Aeria said, "I have to go find a woman's son."

 _Don't forget to review! See you all next time!_


	5. Chapter 5

Peter Pan-Once Upon a Time _\- Thank you! I try. :)_

Chapter 5

Aeria waited until Peter had disappeared before moving, even though the burns were becoming more severe, her lungs were screaming, and her leg was bleeding heavily. Aeria tore off sections of her shirt and wrapped her wrists in them, hiding the gruesome burns.

"Okay," she whispered. "Little boy. Let's go."

She climbed her way out, hacking and gasping for breath at the same time, into open air - except the smoke was only a bit lighter.

She found the woman hiding behind a bush, crying, her face blackened by ash.

"His name is Tommy Timpson," she sobbed. "He's my little boy. He-he's this tall and he has curly brown hair, and missing front teeth, and a green sweat-sweater. We got separated. P-please, help him."

"Don't worry," Aeria croaked. "I'll find your son." The woman's eyes focused on her and she gasped.

"You're a child!"

"No, I'm not," Aeria replied. "I have never been a child."

She used the last of her power to keep the soldiers away from her and the woman while the Avengers fought around her - in the sky, on the ground, trying to contain the shadow soldiers in the square.

"Tommy!" Aeria screamed. "Tommy!"

She staggered into the wooded area, shouting and screaming his name. Her leg and arms burned - literally. Her head was pounding, her body aching. "Tommy," she rasped.

She found him.  
Aeria found him.

Little Tommy Timpson.

With a round face, curly brown hair, green sweater. Jeans and light-up Avengers sneakers.

A beautifully horrific gash was painted across his heart, black veins etched around it. His eyes were open. Blue eyes.

There was blood.

And black.

Aeria fell to her knees, her hand over her mouth.

"Oh, no," she murmured. "Oh."

"Is that Tommy?" the woman whispered behind her. "Is that - oh God. Oh, my God. No, God, please. Oh - Tommy!" The woman collapsed into a heap. "Tommy! _Tommy!"_

* * *

The soldiers disappeared again, in a black flash of light.

Aeria walked back alone.

Her hair was blackened and bloodied. Red against white, a fierce contrast. Her face was smeared with soot and ash. Her clothes were singed, burnt. She had bled through her pant leg. Her leg dragged behind her, leaving a faint trail of frost mixed with blood. Almost no one was on the streets to judge her. They were all running away. They were all evacuated.

 _I should run away,_ Aeria thought numbly to herself.

It was hard to breathe.

 _No one would care. I could hide. Save these people._

 _My fault._

 _It was my fault._

"Glad to see you're back Miss. Aeria," said JARVIS once she had reached the tower.

"Hi, Edwin."

"You are hurt. You require medical attention."

"No, I don't. Thank you."

"Aeria, you are severely hurt. You require medical attention."

"I heal quickly," she replied, stumbling in. She tripped, landing on her knees. Her hair fell away in front of her face and she took a deep breath in, deep breath out. She was clammy. Hot.

She hated being hot.

Still, she managed to get to her room before she could be seen any of them.

She threw off her shirt and tore off her bindings, staring at her arms. They looked like they were steaming.

The skin was dark red, charred black in some places. _It's not regular fire._

Usually, regular burns wouldn't be this severe.

Of course, nothing about this was regular.

The look of the flesh was sickening - it was like it had been mauled. She rewrapped it in regular gauze.

Then she looked at her leg.

It was bent awkwardly - most likely fractured or dislocated. There was a deep gash on the side from where the beam had cut in. It was soaked in a dark scarlet color. Grimacing, Aeria grabbed a towel and wiped the excess blood away, then wrapped it up tightly.

She leaned against her bed, her eyes closed, her breathing shallow.

Peter saw her walk in later. He was the only one in the room.

"Aeria!" he shouted, running over to her. "What the hell? Where'd you go - we thought you were dead or captured, or -"

"There was a - a boy," Aeria said. He grew quiet. "He was f-five, or six. He had blue-blue eyes and a green s-sweater. He - he's dead. He's dead. He was a little boy, and he was sta-stabbed. In the heart." She swallowed, trembling. "A little boy. Named Tommy. T-Tommy Timpson."

"Aeria," Peter muttered. He pulled her into a hug, something that made her freeze. She hadn't had one of those in a long time. "I'm sorry."

She went back to her room later, after Peter promising her that he wouldn't tell anyone else about… that. Or about her injuries he noticed. She also made JARVIS promise he wouldn't inform Tony she was burned.

She didn't need any of that.

She didn't eat that night, even if she should've. She had to eat. She was weak, exhausted, drained, hurt.

 _Your fault._

 _All of it. All of it._

 _Your fault._

 _Your fault those people died._

She sat in the darkness, clutching her head, rocking back and forth.

 _Your fault._

 _Your fault._

The scent of booze.

 _Come here, freak!_

Wandering hands. Wandering eyes.

 _She's a monster. A freak! Nearly killed Johnny last week._

 _Hope she was taught her lesson._

 _Oh, believe me, she was._

Pain. Blood. Blackness. Terror.

 _Subject's been in isolation for two weeks in darkness._

Hands. Laughing, drunk guards. Unable to move.

 _She's a pretty one, innit she?_

Power. Blood. Death.

 _Your fault._

 _All of it._

 _Your fault._

* * *

 **"** **Do we have any raspberries left?" Aeria asked, striding into the room. Peter eyed her - she was wearing her signature sweat pants, but instead had a sweatshirt on to hide her wrists. She looked fine - no limp, no blood. Nothing.**

"We always have raspberries," Rogers said with a frown. "You know, Aeria, you really should have more things to eat."

"Nope."

Roger's frown deepened and he exchanged glances with the others. Clint shrugged, biting into a bagel. _Not healthy,_ Rogers mouthed.

"Saw that," Aeria called.

After they had breakfast (Aeria: raspberries with Hershey bars) Steve and Tony called for a team meeting.

"Feels like school," Sam muttered, taking a seat at the table.

"Aeria," Rhodey started, "We've been discussing things, and…."

"Oh, God, don't leave me hanging," Aeria said sarcastically. Peter snorted.

"Anyways," Rhodey continued, "We've -"

"No," Tony interrupted. "Not _we._ I never had a say in this."

"Neither did I," said Clint.

" _Fury,"_ Tony growled, "Wants you to become an Avenger."

Aeria blinked as if she wasn't quite hearing what he was saying. She probably wasn't.

"Um," she said.

"With training, of course," Steve Rogers said.

"I've _had_ training," Aeria snapped, her eyes cold. "Didn't like it."

"This isn't like that," Rhodey said.

"No," Aeria said. "This is exactly like that. You want to train me to be a weapon for another cause for the 'good' side."

"We are the 'good' side," Sam protested. Aeria scowled.

"That's what they all say."

"We're not training you to be a weapon," Steve said. "We would never do that."

"Oh yeah? Then why does Fury want me? Why do you all have to train me? Hm? What for? Train me to, uh, I don't know - get the mail, bake cookies, answer the phone? Why do you want to train me?"

"You'll be helping people," Thor said. "Isn't that what you want?"

"I want -" Aeria bit her lip. "This is _my_ life," she said. "And the thing is…."

"It never has been," Natasha finished softly. "It's never been your life."

Aeria nodded. Then, after a moment or two, "I'll let you train me. Because I need to set everything right."

"You've never done anything wrong," Peter said.

Aeria met his eyes.

"Yes, I have."

"I still can't believe Fury," Clint growled, slamming his fist on the table. Aeria flinched. "I mean, she's - Aeria, you're 13!"

"14 soon," she said quietly.

"Clint, we've discussed this," Rogers said.

"No," he retorted. "No, we've _not_ discussed this." And with that, he stood up and walked out.

"Anyway," Steve Rogers continued, "Aeria, you'll have combat training with Nat, Bucky, and I. You'll learn how to control your powers with Wanda and have weaponry training with Nat."

"I don't need a weapon," Aeria argued.

"Yes, you do."

"Let me rephrase. I don't _want_ a weapon."

"Let _us_ rephrase," Natasha said. "You don't have a choice."

Later, JARVIS gave Aeria her schedule.

"You must stick to this every day," he started, "And never stray from where you're supposed to be. No going outside without Mr. Stark or Mr. Rogers' permission. If another attack happens, you are not permitted to fight without the Avengers' permission."

"Thanks, Edwin," Aeria muttered, collapsing onto her bed and holding the sheet of paper above her.

7:30 AM. Breakfast.

8:00 AM. Hand-to-Hand combat training with Rogers and Barnes.

9:45 AM. Break.

10:30 AM. Power training ( _power training?_ Aeria thought. _Who the hell came up with that?)_ with Maximoff.

12:00 PM. Lunch.

1:00 PM. Hand-to-Hand combat training with Romanoff.

2:00 PM. Break.

3:45 PM. Weaponry training with Romanoff.

4:00 PM. Break.

5:00 PM. Power training ( _again with the name,_ thought Aeria.) with Maximoff.

6:00 PM. Dinner.

And that's how it went.

Every morning, JARVIS would wake Aeria up from whatever nightmare she was having with a cup of hot chocolate - extra whipped cream. She would stumble into the kitchen and have breakfast alone, for the most part. Captain America was forcing her to not have raspberries and to have dry, disgusting cereal in sour milk with hard granola on top.

Then she would go get dressed in her usual attire (she had refused to wear the tight, cold combat suit they had given her), this time continuing to wear sweatshirts to mask the burns.

Next, combat training with Captain America and the Winter Soldier.

"Hold your hands up higher," Steve Rogers said. "Spread your feet apart - they're too close together." And suddenly he swiped her legs out from under her, causing her to slam her jaw onto the mat.

"Ow," she muttered. "Did you have to do that?"

"You have to be ready," Bucky Barnes said. Pausing, Aeria suddenly flew to her feet and hovered a few feet above the ground.

"No using your powers," said Rogers, grabbing her foot and dragging her down, then flipping her around and pinning her

"I hate you both."

Aeria made the most of her breaks. She cooked - she never ate anything she made, but the Avengers seemed to enjoy them.

She made chicken noodle soup and tacos. She made pancakes and apple and peach crisp. She made homemade ice cream and peanut noodles and tofu hotpot. She started to make her own chocolate - giant Reese's peanut butter cups and chocolate bars. Of course, she made guacamole and raspberries and whipped cream.

Priorities, you see.

Priorities.

Wanda was less harsh than the others, at least. She was patient. Understanding.

"Relax," she whispered.

"I am," Aeria grumbled.

"More."

"I'm relaxed!" she snapped. Wanda glanced at her, frowning.

"Aeria," she cautioned. "Relax. Loosen your muscles. Empty your mind. Breathe in, breathe out."

"This isn't a yoga class."

"Breathe in, breathe out. What are you feeling?"

"Nothing."

"What do you usually feel?"

Aeria shrugged. "I don't know. Cold."

"Cold… how?"

Aeria shivered. "Cold, like… a feeling, washing over me. Like a freezing bath."

"Harness it, Aeria. Picture the cold. Picture winter, picture wind and snow, and ice. Harness your power."

"I can't," Aeria muttered. "I can't control my powers. They come on all of a sudden - I can't switch it on and off."

"Try," she insisted.

"I can't!" Aeria snapped, backing up. "This is stupid. I'm sorry, but it's stupid."

And as she turned to leave she was suddenly grabbed by her foot and thrown upwards.

"What the - what are you doing?" Aeria shouted. Wanda came up from behind her, twisting her hands around, a scarlet mist swirling around her fingers. "Let me down!" Aeria demanded.

"Get down yourself," Wanda said calmly, softly.

"No, I - no! I can't!"

"You can."

"Nope! I can't. I can't."

"Yes, you can! Believe in yourself, Aeria."

"Stop blurting all of this inspirational crap!" Aeria cried.

"Harness your magic."

Aeria clenched her fist, her eyes closed tight. _I can't. I can't._

 _You're a monster._

 _A monster._

 _You did it._

 _You._

 _You did it._

 _You killed them._

 _They're gone._

 _It's your fault._

 _All of it._

 _All of it._

"No!" Aeria shouted, and suddenly she was wrapped in a blanket of bitter cold, blasts of ice shooting out of her hands. They cut through the window and froze the left wall, covering everything in a sheer, silvery coat. Wanda yelped and dropped her. Aeria's heart plummeted.

"Are you okay?" she cried, floating a few feet above the ground. Wanda's hand was encased in ice. She was on the floor, face white, shivering. "Oh God. I'm sorry, I didn't -"

"No," Wanda murmured, clenching her frozen fist. The ice cracked and exploded. "No, it's fine. That was good. That was good."

Lunch.

Steve Rogers tried to force salads and oats and sandwiches down her throat, just like at breakfast. Of course, Aeria wasn't going to stand for that, so she froze her food, smashed it, and ate her raspberries, guacamole, and chocolate.

More combat training with Natasha Romanoff.

Nat was… different. She was strict, of course, and strong and powerful and an amazing fighter. She was quieter than Rogers and more patient.

"Come at me," she said. Aeria blinked.

"What?"

"You heard me. Come at me."

"Just like that?"

"Just like that."

So Aeria did.

Somehow, she ended up at the other side of the room, on her head, against the wall.

"You don't think when you attack," Natasha said, standing over her, and her voice was so soft, so gentle, that Aeria didn't feel annoyed or angry at her - or herself.

"I thought we weren't supposed to think."

"Of course you're supposed to think," Natasha said with a smirk. "Just an appropriate amount. You're supposed to know your opponent's next move and the move after that. But you must act quickly."

She paused.

"You know what? I have a better idea. I'll be right back."

She came out with a box. "Have you ever played chess?"

"Chess?"

"Yep. It's a board game solely on knowing your opponent's next move. Prediction, thinking, tactics."

"I'm going to learn how to fight… by playing chess?"

"Yes. Come on, sit down. Let's start."

Aeria began to look forward to her sessions with Natasha for the next couple weeks. They only played chess - that's it. Aeria always lost. She wasn't good at thinking, not like Nat. Not good at predicting. But still, Aeria enjoyed it.

Until she was one move away from getting Nat's Queen.

Of course, she still lost. She didn't see the piece off to the side. But she almost made it. _She almost won._

"Better," Natasha observed.

That same day Aeria saw Roger's move before it happened and flipped him onto the mat

Again, Aeria cooked during her breaks. She also watched the news with Peter Parker and helped him with his homework.

"They caught you on video," Peter said one day. Aeria looked at him.

"What?"

"They caught you on video," he repeated. "In the last battle. CNN is trying to come up with a name for you."

Aeria shrunk into the couch, holding a bowl of cookie batter. She decided she would just eat it raw today.

Then she had weapons training with Natasha. They didn't play any games - just target practice. Aeria hated using guns and tasers and anything else. It reminded her of the prison. Of being cut and shocked. Of being hurt. And Nat respected that - but she still had to learn to shoot a gun.

Break.

Break time meant cook time.

Then she had 'power training' again with Wanda Maximoff, which was agitating as ever.

Then dinner. The Avengers never had any meals together before Aeria came along. And when she did, she insisted on eating dinner together. She would cook and they would eat her food, never complaining. It was good. Things were good.

And that's how it went.

Until half of Brooklyn was blown up.

 _Please review!_


	6. Chapter 6

Peter Pan-Once Upon a Time - _I especially want to thank you for your continued reviewing. It really has given me motivation. Thanks! I'm glad you think that._

nightmarehunter676 - _Don't we all. Don't. We. All._

 _Thanks to everyone for favoriting, following, and reviewing! It's been overwhelming and I'm so glad you all enjoy 'The Ice Queen!"_

Chapter 6

Aeria's week was going by so well.

And when she said 'so well,' she meant so well.

It started out with her defeating Cap and making him let her eat a fruit salad (not to mention defeating him and Bucky while training!). So that was a win. Then she had a wonderful battle with Wanda, defeating her as well by freezing her (with frost, not actual ice) to the wall, putting her in a position where she couldn't get out. She baked her first successful souffle on Monday and hung out with Peter, helping him with his geometry homework.

"They came up with a name," he said, flashing her a smile. Her eyes lit up.

"What?"

"You know - CNN's name for you. They're calling you 'The Ice Queen'."

Aeria made a face. "The _Ice Queen?_ That sounds stupid. I'm not old enough to be a queen." Peter laughed. Tony glanced over from tinkering away at his armor.

"I'll start working on the costume," he said with a grin. Aeria rolled her eyes and started to shuffle the cards.

"Gin Rummy or Go Fish?"

"Aeria, this is a big deal!" Peter argued. "I mean, I created my own name… and it's dope and all, but yours is from the public, and it's actually _good!"_

"I don't think I want a name," Aeria sniffed. "I like my own."

"Well, you're an Avenger," said Tony Stark. "That means you gotta have a name. I have Iron Man, Petey here has Spider-Man, Cap is Captain America, Hulk, Black Widow, Hawkeye, Falcon… we all have our identities. Embrace yours. It's nice."

Aeria pretended to sulk all through Gin Rummy (with M&Ms) but inside, she was beaming. A name. _Ice Queen._ It sounded cool. She liked ice - she practically _was_ ice. But there was that nagging feeling, that memory of what she had learned from those fairytales.

The Ice Queen was a monster. One who manipulated people, who sought out the worst in them. A killer.

 _Your fault.  
All of it. _

_All of it._

 _Your fault._

But she pushed this feeling away and kept a smile on her face, a smile that hid the demons tearing at her mind, a smile that hid the darkness clawing to escape. A smile to let them know she was fine, she was okay, she was happy, she was just

tired.

She was just

tired.

And it was good.

They had waffles for lunch on Thursday, which were delicious. Aeria almost won chess against Natasha Romanoff and found a new stash of candy beneath the couch (which she ate half of in an hour). She got six bulls-eyes in weaponry and Nat promised that she'd make Tony buy her an endless supply of avocados and raspberries and chocolate.

She spent her break with Peter and they both watched as Tony began production on her 'costume.' Aeria didn't know how she felt about the costume - she liked sweatpants and t-shirts, she really did. But she was grateful, and it was fine.

They were in the middle of finishing their dinner on Friday when the world shook.

Aeria yelped and fell to the ground, along with a few others.

"What the f-"

"Language!"

"Was that?" Tony finished, stumbling to his feet. Aeria raced to the window.

Black smoke had consumed the sky. The skyline was as if it was on fire.

Scratch that - it actually _was_ on fire.

"Suit up," said Rogers.

Tony dragged Aeria aside.

"I can't let you go out there again in sweatpants and old shirts," he muttered. Aeria tore her arm away.

"Is it ready?" she asked softly. He nodded.

"JARVIS, get Aeria's costume and deliver it up here."

"Yes, Sir."

A panel in the wall slid open and Aeria stepped forward. "Thank you, Edwin. And Tony."

"Hurry," said Tony as his armor folded out around him, and he flew off.

Aeria looked down at her suit - her costume. The fabric was soft - incredibly soft. She had knee-high black Converse (oddly) and long black pants (almost like leggings but tougher - still amazingly soft), a silky gray jacket that reached her knees and a white blouse beneath. There was a silver crown (at least it looked like a crown - more like a circlet) with a light blue jewel in the center. Yes, all and all it was soft and breathable, but it was tough and durable. Aeria let her hair loose and placed the circlet on her forehead. She expected it to look stupid, and it was - just a little, but actually, unexpectedly really pretty. Then she stuck an earpiece in her ear and slid on the lace gloves Tony gave her.

"Right," she murmured.

"Hello."

Aeria jumped.

"H-Hello?"

"Hello, Aeria Winters. I am your personal AI."

"Oh, cool. I get one of those?"

"Yes."

"And it's Aeria, please."

"Of course."

"W-what's your name?"

"I don't have one."

The voice was feminine and soft, silky, flowing beautifully. Aeria smiled.

"Can I call you Laurel?"

"Laurel is a beautiful name."

"Great."

"We must get going, Aeria. The others are nearly there."

"Right."

Aeria leaped out of a window and moved forward in a diving position, her arms tucked behind her, wind whistling in her ears. Then she raced across the side of buildings, people watching in awe as her feet pounded on their windows.

The air was thick with tension, blood, death. Screams. Murder. Fire and smoke.

Aeria ran faster.

"Aeria, your burns haven't fully healed yet," said Laurel.

"It's been two months since the last attack," Aeria protested. "It's April now. The 13th. I'm fine. And how do you know about my… wounds?"

"I reviewed your health and mental state. You can download the file I have completed later."

"What do you mean, mental state?" Aeria muttered, dodging a black fireball. _Damn,_ she thought. _It's the same people, the same organization. Whoever they are._

"Did you, like scan my brain or something?"

"In a way, yes."

 _What the hell._

"Did Tony ask you to do this?"

"Yes. He and the Avengers inquired about your mental health."

"What the hell!" Aeria repeated out loud. Anger boiled inside her, turning her cold. _Keep your cool,_ Aeria thought and giggled to herself over the unintentional pun. "Laurel, don't give it to them."

"Mr. Stark downloads everything I collect."

"Why the hell do they want to know about my mental health?"

Then she began to recite Aeria's personal history.

"Aeria Alexander Winters, born May 4th, 2004, 5 foot 3 inches. Parents: _searching…."_

"No!" Aeria said sharply. "Don't."

"Exhibits the control ice and snow, and the control of wind. Taken away at the age of three from her home in - _searching…_ "  
"Stop, Laurel."

"Do you want me to skip your imprisonment?"

"Skip everything."

"Now exhibits signs of PTSD, anxiety, and depression."

 _Hiding from the demons in her head._

"Can you _please_ shut up, Laurel? We're almost there."

Something was different.

Half of Brooklyn was blown up.

Aeria knew that.

The sky was burning.

There was also that.

There was no sun, for the smoke had hidden the light.

And now there weren't just black figures shrieking and biting and killing and sucking the life out of people.

There were actual people.

"Aeria!" Tony shouted, calling her over. Aeria opened her mouth to thank him for the suit, but he continued. "Be careful. These soldiers are from your compound."

"What?"

He didn't answer, as the battle had begun.

Aeria didn't move for a moment, taking it all in.

There were lines of soldiers coming out of the smoke and flames, the black shadows flanking them. The soldiers were wielding weapons Aeria had never seen before - huge and small guns, black-tipped harpoons, onyx-colored arrows, pitch-black nets, lasers. It was like nothing Aeria had ever seen before.

Wait.

No, she had seen this before.

She'd been strangled by the net several times. She'd been shot, then had the bullet dug out of her skin (without anesthesia) and been tested. She'd been shocked by their black electric guns.

But something was different.

When a soldier shot at a civilian, they froze over in a sheet of pure black ice. Black frost crept up buildings. Black snow fell from the sky, snow that stung her flesh.

"Oh, God," Aeria said.

The others knew it too.

All that testing.

The radiation.

The flesh dug out of her.

The blood extracted.

The training sessions where they stole her power in the most painful ways possible.

There was no label on the weapons, on the shields, nothing. They were still hesitant on exploiting their identities.

 _Fine,_ Aeria thought to herself, rising. _I'll find out my own way._

 _Not now,_ she reminded herself. _Now you fight. Now you save lives._

She dropped to the ground and summoned the cold, the pure, white cold, and let it go.

 _Jeez, no wonder Peter calls me 'Elsa'._

Her ice exploded upon the soldiers, freezing them, only for them to escape as the shadows broke through the ice. Fear stabbed at Aeria's heart, memories flooded into her mind, pain -

No.

No.

 _Not today. Not today. Today, you forget. Today, you fight._

And the fear turned into anger, the memories turned into anger, the pain turned into madness.

Aeria yelled and charged into the swarm of human soldiers, her hands glowing silver, her body a cold she had never experienced. And she fought.

She knocked the weapons out of their hands, she froze the fire, she let the frost crawl up and choke the life out of them. She grappled the shadows and shot the ice through their chests, bursting the only hearts they had left. She felt the black ice burn through her skin, bleeding her, and the pain faded into fire.

Fire burning cold.

There was blood on her hands.

Whether it was her own or the enemy's, Aeria didn't care. She plowed through the soldiers, through the shadows, her skin ice, her heart frost, her soul cold, because they killed them. They killed all of them. They killed children and mothers and fathers and siblings and _people._

Because they killed her.

Not literally, of course (well…).

But they killed her.

They killed _her._

And they killed children and mothers and fathers and siblings and _people._

And Aeria was going to make them pay.

She came upon what seemed to be their leader - a tall, gaunt man with white hair and a scruffy, stubbly white beard. Aeria came up upon him, and the man looked at her - at this girl with white hair and fire in her eyes, and Aeria saw recognition flash across his face.

"You killed them," she whispered, her hand on his throat. His soldiers surrounded them both. Aeria heard someone screaming her name in the background - a faint calling in the back of her mind. She ignored it. "You killed them all." Her hand tightened on his throat and white frost appeared on his skin. "Why. _WHY_? Why did you do it?! Answer me!"

" _You,"_ came the strangled response. Aeria's hand loosened.

"Who are you?" she growled softly. "Who are you working for? Why did you do this? Why did you do it to _me?_ Tell me. Tell me!"

And suddenly shards of ice cut right through his neck and the man smiled, blood dripping down his lips, and rasped out, " _Just. Wait."_

Aeria stepped back.

Black and red blood intermixed with the white and black wonderland around her. Aeria looked down at her hands.

Red.

Black.

Blood.

Everywhere.

It was thick in the air.

An overwhelming stench.

She could barely breathe.

Barely see.

"Clint!" someone screamed.

Aeria turned and saw Clint Barton on the ground, bleeding. Bleeding red.

Bleeding cold.

Black ice crawled up his side, consuming his stomach.

Aeria summoned power to blast the shadows surrounding him away but could only get rid of a few. Exhaustion was catching up to her. The others took care of the rest.

"We have to go!" Wanda shouted.

"The battle's still going on," Aeria sighed. Tony swung around to face her, his face glowing with fury.

"Go back to the tower," he snapped. "You've done enough."

"I can help! I can find out who these people are!" Aeria leaned forward, her hands balled into fists, staring into Tony's eyes. "Tony, I can _find_ who did this to these people. Who killed them! I can find who did this to _me._ "

"You," Tony growled, grabbing Aeria's hands and pulling her forward violently. Aeria's heart stopped, the fear setting in once more.

Memories.

Pain.

Darkness.

 _Running from the demons in my mind. i_

"Are a _child._ I am not risking you!"

"I'm an Avenger now," Aeria protested. "I'm supposed to help! I can find out who did all of this. I can _fix_ everything!"

"What do you mean, fix everything?" Wanda asked, stepping forward.

 _Your fault.  
All of it. _

_All of it._

 _Yours._

"Let me help," Aeria begged. Tony shook his head.

"Go back to the tower. That's final."

Aeria turned and looked back on the battlefield one last time.

Her breath hitched.

She didn't realize at first, what she did. Her anger was still at its peak, anger over Tony, over everything.

She didn't realize what she had done.

Slaughtered dozens.

The shadows she didn't care about - they were nothing, dark, evil beings. Killers.

But humans.  
Humans with families. Lives. Pasts.

She killed them.

Every last one of them.

She had killed the last person that had information on who did this, on what happened to her. On the compound.

She was a killer.

A monster.

"I'm sorry," she choked out. She couldn't stop shaking.

There was so much blood. So much. Too much.

"I'm sorry."

And she stumbled away, too weak, too fragile to fly.

 _Please review, follow, and favorite!_


	7. Chapter 7

**Make sure to read the very last comment by me! I have a challenge.**

Thanks _for reviewing, favoriting, and following! Every notification makes me smile._

FanGirlForever19 - _Thanks! I try. :)_

xbabygirlx1998 - _Wonderful! That made my day._

 _On with the chapter!_

Chapter 7

A part of her was sad and guilty that Tony's costume was covered in blood. That she and ruined it. (Of course, blood could easily wash out. Scars could not. Memories didn't fade.) She tore it off and stepped into the shower, her legs shaking, ready to give out.

She let the warm water slide over her back, her front, her arms, her legs, over her scars, over the markings. Washing out the blood. Her hair turned white again and the cold fire died in her eyes. The water on her feet ran red down the drain, creating a stain on the bottom. After thirty minutes or so, she stepped out, put her sweatshirt and loose pajama pants back on, and fell back onto her bed.

She realized the earpiece was still in. Laurel hadn't spoken since the beginning of the battle.

"Why weren't you talking to me?" Aeria murmured, her voice soft and quiet. She wondered why she was upset that her AI wasn't talking.

"You told me to stop."

"Oh. Only on that subject, though. I don't like it."

"Alright. Welcome back, Aeria. How was it?"

"I'd rather not talk about it."

"Just kidding. I know how it was. I saw everything."

"How?"

"Footage from Mr. Stark's AI and from the circlet jewel. I also did another brain scan -"

"Laurel. Please."

"Of course. Shall I be quiet until I'm needed?"

"Oh. Um. Yes, please. Sorry. I'm just…."

"I understand."

And for some reason, Aeria knew she did.

Later, Aeria heard the others come back in. Later, she heard that Fury wouldn't let them follow the soldiers. Later, Aeria was in her room. Alone. In the dark. Later, she remembered it would've been a full moon. Later, she knew that smoke covered the moon, covered the light. Later, Aeria felt the tears roll down her face, wetting her pillow. Later, the demons found her. They found her hiding place.

Later, Aeria entered her second battle.

Later, Aeria entered the battle against her demons.

Later, Aeria realized she wasn't good enough. Later, Aeria realized it was all her fault. It really was. The thousands of people who died when half of Brooklyn was blown up. All her. Her fault. All of it. All of it. Later, Aeria realized she wasn't good enough to be an Avenger. She wasn't strong enough.

Later, Aeria realized there was one way to prove herself.

Later, Aeria fought back the demons and stood. Later, Aeria told herself the children and mothers and fathers and siblings and _people_ would not die in vain.

Later, Aeria slipped into a new STARK sweatshirt and sweatpants, put her hair into a bun, and rethought everything.

Later, Aeria knew she couldn't go out that night.  
Later, Aeria made a plan.

Later, Aeria stuck to the plan and crawled back under the blankets, knowing she wouldn't leave that night, knowing it would be soon. She would avenge them soon.

Then it was morning.

They didn't have training that day.

First, Natasha gave an update on Clint. The ice had stopped and they were thawing it out, but the process was slow. She said the morphine's numbed the pain and that they're working on skin grafting. He'd be okay.

Next, Tony gave a lecture to Peter about safety and how if he got himself killed Tony would have to explain it to Aunt May, and to keep up with schoolwork and _I've noticed you're falling behind in history and Spanish_ and _I'm ordering a couple SAT prep books for you_ and _better start studying for those finals, Pete._

 _Don't call me Pete._

Finally, Aeria spoke up.

"What are we going to do?"

They all looked at her.

"With the soldiers, I mean," she added. "How are we going to find them? Who are they? Should we trace them?"

"I think you've done enough," said Steve Rogers.

Cold began to seep into Aeria's bones. She blocked it out.

"What - what do you mean?"

"You lost control," Rhodey said. "We can't let that happen again."

"What the hell is that supposed to mean? They-they were the bad guys! They were shadows!"

"Not all of them," Peter replied quietly. "Some were human. Some were men."

"They _killed_ them!" Aeria cried. "They killed children and mothers and fathers and siblings and _people!_ I was - I was _avenging_ them."

"Killing people isn't avenging," Tony growled. Aeria met his eyes and glared - and they stared at her, they all stared at her, at this little girl with a broken soul and a cold heart and a dark past and fire and ice in her blood, this little girl with scars, this little girl with torture in her mind.

"I need to find out what they did," she whispered. "I need to find out what they did to them. To _me._ You saw their weapons." She paused, closing her eyes. "Ice. Black ice. _My_ ice. They stole my powers. I need to find out who they are."

"This is completely unnecessary," Rogers argued. "SHIELD will figure it out."

"You sure about that?" Tony muttered, mostly to himself. Steve glanced at him and Natasha Romanoff bit her lip. "Aeria, you're - you're grounded."

"What?" Aeria exploded, flying to her feet. "What - on what charges?"

"Go to your room," said Tony. Aeria's eyes widened and her hands turned a silvery shade. Her blood started to freeze.

"Excuse me?"

"Go to your room," Tony said again. "You know what that expression is, don't you? Go. Leave."

Aeria slammed her fists on the table, creating frost to spread out a few feet in front of her, then stomped off.

"That was… harsh," Sam murmured.

"She's a kid," Tony mumbled. "We're her… guardians."

"No, we're her trainers," Bucky corrected. "SHIELD owns her. We assist SHIELD in owning her."

"So… this is basically her new prison," Natasha began, "Just with a fancier cell, yeah?"

No one spoke.

Then, "Yeah," said Tony. "Yeah."

Aeria made up her mind that day.

"Laurel?"

"Yes, Aeria?"

"Cut off communications with Tony Stark and the rest of the Avengers."

"May I ask why?"

"Do it, and I'll tell you."

"Very well. I have turned off recording and communications with Tony Stark and the rest of the Avengers."

"Including Edwin."

"Who?"

"JARVIS."

"Including JARVIS."

Aeria let out a long sigh and closed her eyes, briefly remembering Peter Parker's story. Escaping out at night, following the bad guys. Saving the day.

"I'm going to find them," she said.

"Find who?"

"The soldiers. The compound."

"And your parents, I am assuming."

"Ye-wait, what?" Aeria stood quickly, so quickly that a black veil speckled with rainbow shapes clouded over her vision. "My-my _parents?"_

"Of course."

"They're still alive?"

"Searching…"

"No, don't answer that. It's fine. Um, yeah." She stood straighter, staring out of the window at the still smoldering city. Construction was beginning - a multi-billion dollar project. Half of Brooklyn was leveled and blown up, resulting in thousands of deaths, hundreds of homes ruined, businesses gone, lives destroyed.

 _Your fault._

 _All of it.  
All of it._

 _Your fault._

"Laurel, tonight we're going down to Brooklyn."

"May I ask why?"

"We need to find something that'll tell us who the soldiers are."

"And then? You'll be going to Canada, to find the compound?"

Aeria paused, thinking it over. "I don't know. Maybe. Maybe not. I-I want - I don't know."

"I understand."

 **11:46 pm.**

Aeria looked at her suit, a suit that was dirtied and torn and still had traces of blood, even though it was washed. She put on leggings and a _STARK_ sweatshirt instead.

 **12:03 am.**

` Aeria climbed to the roof and dove off of it, letting the wind catch her and carry her off - down to the darkened island.

 **12:08 am.**

She landed where the center of the battle was, where she had fought. The ground was stained red still. They hadn't gotten around to cleaning up the bodies, and the air stunk of rotten flesh. When shadows were killed, they evaporated into mist, which eventually settled into black pools, so there was nothing there. But the men were still there. Bloodied bodies. Some were half-frozen, some were impaled by large, broken shards of ice (not icicles - icicles were to merciful for them).

Aeria swallowed her raspberries back down and stumbled over to one of the soldiers, who was completely frozen over. His eyes were wide and his mouth was open. He died mid-scream.

 _Wait,_ Aeria thought. _Maybe he isn't. Maybe -_

She placed her hand on his head and concentrated, bringing back the ice, letting it seep back into her body.

The man collapsed in a puddle of water, gasping, and Aeria grabbed his collar and forced him to his feet.

"Who are you?" she shouted, shaking him. He was tinted blue and shivering violently, soaking wet. "Who are you?"

"Y-y-you're her," the man stuttered, his breath heaving. "You're the girl-girl."

"Who do you work for? Why did you do this?" Aeria demanded, shaking him again. " _Why did you do this?"_

"I-I can't -"

"You _will,"_ Aeria insisted. Frost crept down the man's skin, inching closer and closer to his heart. "You _must."_

"Others," he gasped. Aeria narrowed her eyes.

"Other? Other compounds?"

The man nodded, his green eyes drowning in misery. Why, Aeria never knew.

"Where?"

"America. Wendigo Forest in West Virginia. Canada. You-your's."

"Mine? Are there more?"

"Kenyan wilderness. Mountains in France. Forest in Brazil."

"There are others?" He didn't answer. "Answer me!"

The man opened his mouth and said, in a raspy, breaking voice, "You."

Aeria froze.

 _Me?_

"Others like me?" she whispered, staring the man down. The frost stopped. "There are others like me out there?"

"My family," he cried. "I want my family."

Rage hardened Aeria's heart and the frost appeared once more, faster, deadlier.

"I want my family too," she snarled. The man's eyes widened and he let out a choked exhale, and then a smile - a twisted, maniacal smile.

"Susan," he whispered, "Charles. Winters."

Aeria let him go and stepped back, her heart pounding.

"Are they alive?"

The grin grew.

"I killed them."

He was dead before he hit the ground.

 **12:24 am.**

"West Virginia," she muttered, walking away, her fists stained with his blood. "Their headquarters, I guess. Laurel, search any strange activity in West Virginia."

"There has been in increase in weapon shipments to West Virginia."

"Any name?"

"I found one record. Stane."

"Stane," Aeria repeated. The name sounded familiar.

Guards whispering it behind her back.

A word drifting through the air ducts.

Murmurs, distant murmurs.

"They killed my parents," Aeria informed her AI. "They killed them. They're gone. They're dead. I'm never getting them back."

 _Memories._

 _Wistful, blissful memories._

 _Warm, milky, far away.  
Just… memories._

"I'm going to West Virginia," said Aeria, rising rapidly.

"Why, may I ask?"

"Because," she whispered, "There are others like me. And I'm going to find them."

 **1:46 am.**

Aeria had been flying for over an hour.

She was already exhausted from the late night, but adrenaline rushed through her - a fierce adrenaline, a fierce longing to avenger her parents. To find the others. To _save_ them.

 _Your fault.  
All of it._

 _All of it._

"Where are we, Laurel?"

"Crossing through Maryland. Almost there, Aeria. We are close.

 **2:13 am.**

They still weren't there. Apparently, Wendigo Forest was at the farthest reach of West Virginia, at a secluded tip, hidden in the mountains. Laurel kept trying to make conversation with Aeria, which was odd, considering she (it? she? what was an AI classified as?) was artificial.

"I'm not in the mood to talk, Laurel," Aeria snapped after twenty minutes of Laurel asking questions and telling embarrassing stories about the Avengers she'd picked up with Edwin JARVIS on the security cams.

"I must keep you talking, Miss. Winters."

 _Don't call me that._

"Why?" Aeria growled, forcing the wind to push her forward faster.

"Because you are reckless and are a danger to yourself and others."

"Excuse me?"

"I've scanned your brain, Aeria Winters, and -"

" _Don't tell me about my own demons,_ " and Aeria fell to the ground in a tangle of limbs. She got up running, sprinting through the trees, branches clawing at her, roots strangling her feet.

 **2:46 am.**

And suddenly, she was there.

She couldn't see it, not yet. But she knew it was there, hiding, in the trees. Like an old memory, there and there, gone again, a wish, a breeze, a thought lost to the madness of the world.

She knew.

"Laurel, mute."

"You cannot mute me, Aeria."

So she tore the earpiece out of her ear and threw it on the ground.

 _I'm on my own._

She flew up, cold rushing through her blood. _Burning cold._ At first, all she could see was tree after tree after tree, mountain after mountain after mountain. Then, through the green, was a white formation peeking out of the leaves. It was smaller than she thought. Of course, most of it was probably underground.

Aeria could see a few watch towers sticking up above the trees as well. In the distant she could hear convoys rumbling along the dirt path, soldiers speaking amongst themselves, walkie-talkie static. She floated down to the top of an oak, crouching on a branch and clutching to the trunk as soldiers marched beneath her.

 **3:09 am.**

Then she ran from tree to tree, leaping in between branches, silent, leaving traces of ice as she went, growing closer and closer to the compound each time.

Rage.

Wrath.

Blood.

 **3:14 am.**

She was in.

She didn't expect it to be that easy - breaking in.

What she didn't know, though, in her rage and wrath and blood, was that she was killing people as she went.

Killing soldiers.

Men.

Without even realizing it.

 **3:34 am.**

And somehow, without even realizing it, she was in a room with metal walls and a cold floor, and instead of filing cabinets there were computer screens stacked up on each other. Keyboards lined the table - no, they were _built_ into the table. Holographs hung in the air around her.

She didn't notice the blood smeared on the wall, the floor encased in ice.

She made her way to a keyboard and searched.

 _Aeria Alexander Winters._

Her file appeared in a holograph around her.

Aeria glanced at the video options, something clawing at the pit of her stomach, a demon gnawing at her mind. A video of her being exposed to the radiation in her cell. A video of her being shocked over

and over

and over

and over.

A video of scalpels digging into her skin, of surgeries without anesthesia, videos of her being shot and of bullets being dug out of her flesh.

Rage.

Wrath.

Blood.

 _Pain._

 _Hurt._

She skipped past her general information - the notes, the observations, the tests.

Then she saw the names. _Susan Ann Winters and Charles Roderick Winters._

Hesitantly, she pressed on them both and blinked away tears as two pictures popped up.

The first was of a beautiful woman with shoulder-length auburn hair. She had creamy skin and freckles across her nose and under her emerald green eyes. Oh, the eyes. They were brilliantly green and brilliantly beautiful. There was a something in them - a twinkling diamond, a hidden secret. The picture only showed her face, but it was enough.

The memories were becoming less distant.

The second was of a handsome man with short, cropped dark blond hair. He had tan skin and dimples and gray-blue eyes that held a certain wisdom in them. His smile. Oh, his smile. There was a something in the smile - a twinkling diamond, a hidden secret. The picture only showed his face, but it was enough.

The memories were becoming less distant.

Aeria shut out of the page and stumbled back against the wall - the wall slick with blood - and slid to the floor, her hands clutching her head, leaving red prints against white hair.

 _Focus, Aeria. Focus._

 _Mom._

 _Dad._

 _Mommy._

 _Daddy._

 _Come back._

 _Focus!_

Aeria stood again and grabbed an empty hard drive, then plugged it into the computer and hit _download Aeria Alexander Winters._ She would look at the rest later.

Now. The others.

 **4:01 am.**

She exited out to the main database and stared at the possibilities.

 _Weapons._

 _Tests._

 _Drugs._

 _Compound locations._

 _Aeria Alexander Winters._

 _Ian William Montgomery._

 _Robin Ash Mathews._

 _Madeline Felicity Waters._

She clicked on compound locations first and hit download again, but not before skimming over the places.

The soldier in Brooklyn was right. The main compounds were in West Virginia (as the headquarters), Canada, Brazil, France, and Kenya, however it seemed that English was spoken at all of them. The minor compounds were in Afghanistan, North Dakota, Chile, Finland, Mongolia, Thailand, an island in the Philippines, and Saudi Arabia. Aeria left that and searched for anything that would give an idea to who those people were.

She scrolled through the possible file options, searching, searching, searching.

Then.

 _Confidential._

Wonderful.

She clicked on it and was greeted with a password.

"That's just great," Aeria muttered, typing in the first thing that popped in her head. _Guacamole._

Nope.

 _Chocolate._

Nope.

 _Raspberries._

Nope.

 _Stane._

Nope.

 _Stane4thewin._

Yep.

Aeria could of cried from happiness as she was greeted with what was almost like the 'settings' page of the compound. It showed her the soldiers, the directors, the doctors, _everything._ A name stood out like a flag - in larger print, at the very top.

O_B_ A_D_I_A_H-S_T_A_N_E

Aeria narrowed her eyes. She remembered what Laurel had told her in one of her ramblings about how Tony knew someone or was friends with someone or something named Stane - Obadiah Stane.

 _Didn't he die?_

Aeria hit download again and went back to look at the other children.

They were all 13, just like her. All born on the same day: May 4th.

One had fire powers.

One had telepathic powers, like Wanda.

One had earth powers.

Ian was Brazil, Robin was in Kenya, and the girl, Madeline, was in France.

Aeria swallowed the hard lump in her throat and hit download.

 _There are others like me._

And then the blade entered her stomach and everything faded into nothingness.

* * *

 _Hoped you liked it! This time, I have a challenge._

 _Tell me the perfect superhero. And no, a perfect superhero isn't_ perfect. _A perfect superhero has flaws, a dark past, struggles. But they always do the right thing. Here's the prompt:_

Real superhero:

 _Who, to you, is the most 'perfect' superhero in the MCU?_

Fake superhero:

 _Create a fake superhero that, to you, is perfect. They must have flaws, a past/history, struggles, etc. What's their name? What are their powers? Love interests?_

 _Leave your answers in the reviews and in the next chapter I'll choose whose 'fake' superhero is my favorite!_

 _I hope you enjoyed this chapter. Sorry updates have been slow - school. If you liked it, leave a favorite, follow, and review! (Not just the challenge)_


	8. Chapter 8

_Ahh! Thank you so much for the overwhelming support! I love you all! Each review puts a smile on my face. Sorry for the wait - school, and whatnot. You know how it is. Updates will probably once or twice a week now - maybe a little more, maybe a couple week hiatus every now and then, etc._

FanGirlForever19: _Thanks so much for the continued support!_

nightmarehunter676: _Thanks for trying out the challenge! I agree most with your most 'perfect' superhero - Tony is my favorite superhero overall, without a doubt._

Tomorrow Maybe: _Thank you so, so much for the lengthy review! I love reviews like yours. I also agree with Peter - he's a kid and he just wants to be a hero - he wants to be like Tony._

Sarah: _Updating now!_

theflyingpenguin: _that's my intention. :)_

Chapter 8

Aeria forced away the darkness, the nothingness, the pain and the fire and the rage and the wrath and the _everything_

and

whipped around

yanked the blade after the soldier's hands

and

impaled it into his own stomach.

She stood there, a hole in her abdomen, panting, gasping.

She grabbed the hard drive, slipped it into her pocket, and got the hell out of there.

They knew she was in there.

The alarm was ringing. Loudly. A fierce, violent ringing that pierced Aeria's ears, that caused her to stumble and scream and clutch her bleeding stomach.

Blood.

So much blood.

She'd been hurt before, of course. She had experience with pain and blood. But not like this. _Never like this._ Not this fire, not this burning hotness that was consuming her. There was no cold. Nothing to soothe the hurt. Nothing to soothe the darkness, the demons, the never-ending heat.

They were shooting at her. Shooting at her with their guns and their missiles and their weapons that she made, she made. It was her fault. All of it. All of it.

She managed to get outside into the forest, past the first waves of soldiers. Her vision was clouding over, her mind was numb. And somehow, she knew that was worse. But she couldn't stop. Not now, not then. But

but

the cold was so inviting.

 _Help._

Keep going.

 _Keep going, Aeria, or else you're not going to make it._

 _Keep going, Aeria, or else you'll never see the Avengers again.  
Keep going, Aeria, or you'll never save those children._

Stop, Aeria, and you'll see your parents.

Stop, Aeria, and the demons will fade.

Stop, Aeria, and the darkness will evaporate into light.

 _Keep going, Aeria._

Stop, Aeria.

 _You're stronger than pain._

Succumb to the pain.

 _Keep going, Aeria. Don't give up._

Stop, Aeria. It's okay to lose. You'll be at peace.

 _Keep_

stop

 _keep_

stop

 _keep_

stop

 _keep_

stop-

Aeria erupted into a chorus of screaming ice and frost and blood and pain and darkness and light and hurt and beauty and _everything,_ all at once, everything there, at once, there, there, there, a thousand memories, a million hopes, a choir of dreams, a pit of nightmares.

And she flew up, she flew up, she ran.

It was sunrise when she crawled up to the Avengers towers. The sky was a melting canvas of reds and pinks and oranges and yellows and blues and violets. Aeria stopped at the edge of the building and rolled over onto her back, staring up at the melting canvas of color.

She smiled.

She was in the back of the building, away from the public eye, in this little garden Tony had installed a while ago. There were roses and lilies and tulips and sunflowers and hydrangeas and wildflowers and of course, it was too early for them to be appearing. But Aeria remembered them.  
She hadn't seen flowers in many, many years, and yet - she remembered them like it was yesterday.

She remembered summer days and cold nights and Christmas Eve by the fire. Family dinners and times where her father would take her to the roof so that she could see the stars. Stories her mother would read to her.

She smiled.

She closed her eyes.

"Aeria? Oh, my God. Oh, my God. Oh, uh, Aeria! Aeria, can you hear me? Mr. Stark, Mr. Stark! Tony! Tony!"

 _Is that Peter?_

 _I hope it is._

 _I would like to see Peter one last time._

 _I always liked him._

 _He was kind to me._

 _He didn't treat me any different._

 _I should give him something. I_ have _to give him something. I was going to. Something, something, something. Hard drive. A hard drive. I have a hard drive. I have to give it to him. To them._

 _I can't move my fingers._

 _It's in my pocket, Peter._

 _There it is._

 _Please take it._

 _It's important._

 _I died for it._

 _Please take it, Peter. Please have someone take my sweatshirt and take it. Tony? Wanda? Natasha? Clint? Take the hard drive. Put it into the computer. You need to see. You need to save the other children._

 _Peter?_

 _Are you still there?_

"Find a pulse!"

 _Is that Tony?_

 _I hope it is._

 _I would like to see Tony one last time._

 _He was good to me._

 _He was kind._

 _Always liked him._

"Got one!"

 _Is that Natasha?_

 _I hope it is._

 _I would like to see Natasha one last time._

 _She always beat me at chess. That's okay._

 _She was fair._

 _Take the hard drive, Nat. Please. It's important. So very, very important._

 _Take it._

 _Are there more people here?_

 _Ow. I'm being moved._

 _There are more people around me. I'm moving. It hurts._

 _The pain._

 _Numb, there. There, numb. Hurt. Rage. Wrath. Pain. Blood._

 _Ow. Please stop._

 _I'm going to die._

 _I don't want to die._

She opened her eyes.

"She's awake! She's awake!"

 _Hello, Peter._

 _Take my hard drive. It's in my pocket. It's important, Peter. So very, very important._

"Pocket," said Aeria.

She closed her eyes.

 _Someone's digging around in my sweatshirt pocket. They're taking their hand out. I think they have it. It's very important. Please put it into the computer._

"Someone plug this in!"

 _Hi, Steve Rogers._

 _I still resent you for not letting me eat my raspberries and chocolate and guacamole. I will haunt you from beyond the grave._

 _I'm dying._

 _I am dead._

 _Wait._

 _I don't want to die._

 _Please don't let me die._

 _Please_

 _please_

 _please._

 _Wait._

 _It's my fault._

 _It's my fault. All of it. All of it. Mine. I've killed people. I blew up Brooklyn. I killed those soldiers. Those children, those mothers, those fathers, those siblings, those_ people. _I killed them. They killed me._

 _Let_

 _me_

 _die._

"She's coding!"

"Charging. Clear!"

"No pulse."

"Charging to 250. Clear!"

"Still no pulse."

 _Let_

 _me_

 _die._

"Charging to 300. Clear!"

"No pulse!"

"Is she going to be okay?"

 _Hello, Peter._

 _I wish I could see you one last time._

 _Please._

 _Let_

 _me_

 _die._

* * *

Peter watched, helpless, as the doctors pressed the paddles to Aeria's chest. Her torso was washed in blood - the edges black, the center dark and thick. Stark's technology wasn't enough.

It wasn't enough.

Tony smashed his fist through the window, yelling out in anger outside the medical room. Everyone turned around to look at him. His face was twisted in anger, his eyes cold with fury.

"I should've gone after her," he muttered, clenching and unclenching his fists. "I _should've_ gone after her. This shouldn't have happened."

"You didn't know," Natasha argued. "None of us did."

"I should've had JARVIS watching over her," he growled. "I should've been keeping tabs. I should've -"

"Tony," Steve interrupted, "What's done is done. You can't change anything. _We_ can't change anything. She took matters into her own hands."

Peter looked at the hard drive in his palm and fingered it, grazing his thumb over the black coating. "She figured it out," he said numbly. "She found out the truth."

" _Charging to 330. Clear!"_

" _I found a pulse!"_

They all whipped around and pressed themselves to the glass. Aeria jerked upwards, hacking. She was in nothing but a bra and ruined sweatpants, revealing the gaping wound in her stomach. Fresh blood began pouring out of it, running down her torso and onto the table.

"Stop moving!" the doctors and nurses were shouting, grabbing her shoulders and forcing her down. She was convulsing, shaking violently, her eyes wide, her mouth open.

"Let me die," she screamed. Peter swallowed hard, the pit in his stomach growing. "Let me die! Let me die, please, just let me die. Let me die. I want to die. I killed them, I killed them… let me die, oh please, _let me die."_

* * *

She was awake.

She couldn't move either.

She was in a hospital room - or what looked like a hospital room. It probably wasn't. She was still in the Avenger's tower, locked away in the medical wing.

She was alive.

Aeria looked around her, taking it all in in a hazy veil of consciousness. She lifted her arms to adjust the blanket - and realized she was restrained, special cuffs that kept the cold from entering her body - cuffs all-too familiar. Tears wet her eyes, blurring her vision, but she could still make out the rest of the room.

Two-sided glass - she couldn't see out, but they could see in. Were they watching her right that minute? Probably. Watching her, laughing, laughing at her misery. Her pain. Her embarrassment, her humiliation. Planning, scheming against her. She was like a zoo animal - a disgusting, monster of an animal.

Her heart started to pound as memories poured into her head like a dam had broken - a wall in her mind, torn, scratched, ruined. Memories. Dark, painful memories. Things she hadn't thought about in months, years even. She closed her eyes, her fists tightening, and slipped away into dark, painful sleep.

* * *

" _Mama!"_

" _Yes, my snowflake?"_

 _Susan Winters looked up from her book with a smile and gazed upon her daughter. Little Aeria was pressed up against a window, looking out into meadow outside their cottage. It was dark out, storming. Bolts of lightning cut through the sky, thunder roared its fury until hoarse, the roof was battered by relentless rain. Even though it was May, it was still cold outside - out here, in the mountains, in the forest. Charles had a fire going and they were all mighty cozy - Susan with her book on Norse Mythology (reading up on Loki, apparently), Charles making dinner in the next room (tacos with guacamole - Aeria's favorite! Along with chocolate and raspberries for dessert, of course), Aeria playing by the firelight beside Susan, her short hair braided with flowers woven in between strands._

" _Who are they?"_

 _Susan chuckled to herself, thinking it was just another one of Aeria's daydreams, her fantasies. But her child looked back at her with an expression so… unlike her that Susan had no choice to get up and walk over to the window._

 _She could hardly see out - scratch that, she could see nothing. It was pitch black; total darkness._

 _Then a flash of brilliant white light that seemed to last for eternity but really only for a split second illuminated the darkness, the night, and she saw it._

 _Or rather, them._

 _There were at least 20 people marching towards their cottage, bearing guns and flares and weapons Susan didn't try to recognize._

 _Her heart stopped._

" _Charles," Susan called, desperately trying to keep her voice steady._

" _Yes, Susan?"_

" _Can you come here for a moment, please? Aeria darling, please go to your room. We're going to play a little game. Can you open your closet and hide in the corner? Underneath all of your blankets. Can you do that?"_

" _But mama, why?"_

" _Is my snowflake asking why we're playing hide-and-seek?" Susan forced a smile. "Go on, then."_

 _Another flash of lightning. The soldiers were closer now._

 _Charles appeared in the doorway._

" _Susan, what is it?"_

 _His voice was tired, his face dull._

" _They're here," she hissed. "For her."_

 _His eyes grew wide and filled with inexplicable fear._

 _Susan clasped a hand across her mouth as a sob wracked her shoulders. "Oh my God, they're going to take her away."_

" _What are they going to do? Susan, what are they going to do to_ us?" _Charles growled, wagging his index finger at her. "Listen, Sus, I agreed to be a father for this… this_ monster _so that they don't take her away from you, but I_ never _agreed to be subject to a possibility of being killed! Susan -" he rushed towards her, grabbing her hands in his. "Listen, Susan. Let me go. I_ have _to go. This - this is your fault! You and your monster, and her - her demon father!"_

" _He's not a demon," Susan snapped. "She's not a monster. And he - he's a god!"_

" _God, demon, they're the same thing! I didn't sign up for this Susan. Let. Me. Go."_

 _And then the door was smashed open and the soldiers poured in._

 _Susan screamed as one, two shots fired through the air and ripped through Charles' heart, killing him instantly. He collapsed, mouth open, eyes wide, into a pool of his own blood._

" _Where's the girl?" one of the soldiers demanded, taking a step towards her. Susan shook her head wildly._

" _I will_ never _tell you," she snarled, taking a defiant step towards the soldiers. And just as she did, another shot fired through the air._

 _Susan stared down at the growing red stain on her midsection._

" _Please don't hurt her," she said._

 _And she fell to the ground._

 _Maxwell Grave stepped over the two bodies with a smirk._

" _Wouldn't dream of it," he said._

…

 _The throne room was cold and bare, shadows lingering in corners, the half-moon shining through the ceiling. A prince stood before his father, his head down, his fists clenched. Ice was creeping over his heart - a bitter, resentful ice._

" _You fell in love with a Midgardian woman," said the father, his voice dripping maliciously. "You bring shame upon our family. You fathered a Midgardian child!"_

" _They mean_ nothing _to me!" the prince protested. "Nothing, father, I swear."_

" _You have brought a girl who possesses powers that are not of Midgard, my son."_

" _I am not your son," the prince snapped. "I learned that a long time ago."_

 _Then, quietly, "What are you going to do? Punish me? Banish me to Midgard?"_

" _You care about her," the king mused, leaning forward. "You care about this child, this woman. Fortunately," he continued, "The woman - Susan, was her name? Is dead. That will carve enough of a scar out of you. And the child… well, the child…." The Prince stepped forward, his heart dropping._

" _What did you do to her?" he snapped._

 _The Allfather raised an eyebrow. "Son," he started, "You impersonated me - took over my throne, took over Asgard -"_

" _I," the Prince shouted, "Am_ Loki! _God of Mischief, son of Laufey,_ not _you, oh great Allfather. Face it, Odin." He barked out a desperate, dark laugh. "I am a Frost Giant. I am_ not _your son. Now. What did you do to the child?"_

" _Nothing, Loki," Odin murmured. "Nothing." He sighed, leaning back in his throne, his staff Gungnir dull, as if all the colors had drained. "Some know of Asgard's existence. Of the Nine Realms. Some know of you and what you've done - what you've done to that woman and her husband, what you've done to the girl. They took her, Loki. To their… torture chamber, their dungeon. They took the other three as well."_

" _Three?"_

" _Light-Elves escaped from Alfheim."_

" _How?"_

" _I do not know. A portal, perhaps. They, too, birthed children will Midgardians, and their children were taken as well."_

" _As powerful as mine?"_

" _No, Loki." Odin paused and gazed at his foster son. "So you do care about your child? What's her name… Aeria Winters. Of course, her real name is Aeria Lokidottir."_

 _Loki turned around, green fire burning in his eyes._

" _I do not care for her," he spat bitterly. "Nor will I ever."_

And Aeria woke with a start.

* * *

She kept her eyes closed, even though she was conscious. She was aware that people were surrounding her, talking softly, assuming she was still asleep.

"We've found DNA strands in her system that… were not of this world," said someone - a nurse, her voice smooth like honey. Aeria's heart began to pound harder and the beeping increased. "One resembled Susan Winters and the other…."

"What about her father, Charles?" asked another. Steve.

"Well, apparently he's not her father," grumbled a man. Tony.

"Test for any sort of DNA we might have in our system, anything at all," said a woman. Natasha Romanoff.

"On it."

The door opened and shut. Aeria's mind raced - a million thoughts swirling through her head.

What was that dream? Or was it even a dream - maybe a vision? Did people even have visions? It seemed like something that only happened in storybooks, fairy tales. But still… it seemed so _real._ And she had never seen a picture of Odin, and yet he was shown in perfect detail. As was Loki, and Susan, and Charles, and Aeria as a little girl. It couldn't have been - it _couldn't_ have been - it wasn't real, it wasn't _real._

* * *

Thor thought he recognized the girl from the beginning.

The fierce angle of her face, the sharp chin, the nose, the eyes. And yet he couldn't figure out who - _what_ she looked like.

And then he got it.

And suddenly he was very, very afraid.

 _Please review, fav, and follow! Love you all - thank you for all of the motivational reviews!_


	9. Chapter 9

_Thanks for reviewing!_

nightmarehunter676: _heheheheh_

FanGirlForever19: _:)_

Sarah: _yes, but ah! School._

Weaver: _thanks!_

theflyingpenguin: _thank you so much!_

Tomorrow Maybe: _sorry for the delay!_

 _I am severely exhausted right now as I'm writing and don't have time to look over it cause I'm leaving in the morning to go somewhere so excuse any punctuation errors._

 _Also please check note at bottom of chapter! I really need ideas!_

Chapter 9

Tony's rage was like a wildfire.

Stane. Obadiah Stane. His ex-bestie, his ex-partner. The ex-dead psycho. How was he even alive? It-it was impossible. _Impossible._ He couldn't have been alive. He couldn't have been!

Yet he was.

And he was stealing away children from their homes to be tested, tortured, for _weapons._ Weapons. And somehow he was creating shadow-like soldiers, based on the data they were receiving from the hard drive Aeria had recovered. Using blood and DNA extracted from their bodies, he was bottling up their powers, first designing weapons and then designing soldiers. How, he didn't know. The secret was buried too far deep in their database.

Damnit, Tony wanted to strangle the son of a -

"Tony!"

"What, Steve?" Tony snapped, whipping around. "What do you want?"

"They're transferring her, Tony," Steve Rogers said gently. Tony's shoulders sagged. "To the Zoo."

Tony cursed loudly. The Zoo - one of the new instituted facilities, run by SHIELD. Made to be a prison for out of control criminals - criminals with powers.

"Aeria isn't a criminal," he muttered, slamming his fist onto the counter. "We need to keep her here."

"We don't have a choice, Stark," Steve protested. "She is SHIELD's."

"She's been classified as a powerful, dangerous threat," sad Natasha, coming up behind them. "Therefore, SHIELD's taking her in."

"She's not a weapon," Tony muttered, closing his eyes.

"Tony," Nat began tentatively, laying a hand on his shoulder, "We've been analyzing the DNA."

He opened his eyes.

"And?"

"And…."

"We're not certain," said Bruce Banner, walking up. "Nothing's for sure. But we've pieced together the evidence, the facts."

"Can someone tell me already?" Tony snapped, taking a step back. His friends all stared at him; Cap, Natasha, Clint, Bruce, Sam, Rhodey, Wanda, and a grief-stricken Peter. The only one missing was Thor - and he strode in, sullen.

"Loki managed to get to Midgard," he spat. "How? I do not know. But he fathered a girl, a child. This would explain Aeria's powers. He-he is a Frost Giant if you do not know."

Tony let out a choked cough. "Sorry. _What?"_

"Aeria Lokidottir," Thor finished gravely.

"I didn't know Loki was still… around," Sam said. Thor shrugged.

"He disappeared, mortally wounded, after he and I prevented Ragnarok. I presumed him dead and grieved his loss. He must've fled to Midgard to heal his wounds, and in doing so…."

"Met Susan Winters," finished Rhodey. "A doctor at a New York hospital. And then they had Aeria."

"And Loki left Susan," Steve continued, "And she met Charles Frederick. They bought a cabin in the remote woods in Canada. Soon after Aeria turned three, they were found by a Mr. Obadiah Stane and his organization. Then they started producing weapons and soldiers from Aeria's powers."

"There are other children, aren't there?" Tony asked behind gritted teeth. "Other… Asgardian kids? Frost Giants?"

"Close," Thor mused. "Light Elves from Alfheim. Their situations are similar to Loki's. We know the locations of the three other children - two boys and one girl."

"We're just waiting on SHIELD's response," Steve said. "So that we can retrieve them."

"They'll be on full lockdown after Aeria," Natasha said. "It'll be near impossible to get in."

Then, "How is she?" Tony asked softly. Natasha glanced around the group.

"She's stable," Natasha murmured finally. "Hasn't said a word. I think she knows where she's going."

Peter suddenly kicked the wall - hard, cursing at SHIELD, the Avengers, Stane, Aeria, himself. He kept on cursing as he marched out of the room, kicking everything in sight, smashing priceless vases and paintings, shouting and screaming and cursing and hating and doing everything, everything, all at once.

"Elsa, what have you done?" Tony heard him cry.

* * *

"We all know _Frozen's_ warm, heartfelt story," said the reporter, "But do we know the story behind it? The new Avengers is certainly showing us the true tale of the Snow Queen - or, for her, the Ice Queen. Dan, can you replay the video?"

Aeria watched in silence on the tv in front of her the footage of the fight of Brooklyn.

Where she had gone on a killing rampage - what she called _avenging._

"As you can see, our young Ice Queen has seemed to lose all control," the reporter remarked with a laugh. "Is this Avenging, Bill, or a massacre?"

"Killing is never the answer, Judy, you're right," said Bill. "But -"

The tv shut off with an audible _click._ Aeria looked to the side.

Four SHIELD agents stood in front of her, Tony in the middle of them. He nodded.

Aeria blinked away the tears as they unstrapped her from her bed and lifted her up. It had been a week since the accident, and because of her powers her healing was sped up, so standing up (with the bending over the wound) was fine - they just didn't want to risk it. She was already in her new clothes; a plain gray, long-sleeved shirt and white pants, her hair braided down the back. Her outfit for the next eternity.

They snapped the new handcuffs on. Two grabbed her arms and held them behind her back, their grips like iron. She glanced up at Tony, who was looking down, his hands stuffed in his pockets, and felt compelled to say something - but the words refused to come.

"We're going to find who did this to you," Tony said. "We're going to find them. The other kids, too."

She didn't say anything.

The Avengers were standing in a line outside the room, like a gauntlet - a shield protecting her from an unknown force.

Steve refused to look her in the eye - along with Rhodey, Peter, Wanda, and Sam. Natasha and Bucky both met her gaze, providing hidden reassurance. _Stay strong,_ their eyes said. _It'll be okay._

Will it?

One of the agents shoved her forward violently when she paused to take a breath - walking was still hard. She grunted and stumbled, unable to catch her fall with her hands behind her back. She just managed to twist her head to the side as her face smashed onto the floor.

"Careful," Tony barked, like she was an item to be handled delicately. She spat at the agent that tried to help her up, her spit landing right on his cheek, and climbed to her feet by herself. She pushed away the agents and staggered up to the helipad and into the SHIELD helicopter. Nick Fury was standing in the front, his hands behind his back, a stern look on his face. He glanced down at her - almost in disgust - an expression mixed with pity and hate and annoyance.

"Escort Miss. Winters to the cell," he said. Aeria stood firm, not letting the agents move her.

"That's not my name, is it?" she said, raising one eyebrow. Fury narrowed his eyes.

" _What?"_

"That's not my name, is it, sir? Am I not _Loki's_ daughter?" and she said his name bitterly, her tongue dripping maliciously. "Is that true, Fury?"

"How did you get ahold of this information?" Fury whispered, stepping forward. "This is highly classified -"

"I guess being part-Asgardian has its advantages," Aeria sneered. Fury's eyes widened.

"What do you mean by that?" he snapped. Aeria didn't break her glare as she marched into the helicopter, into her cell, and let the agents shut the door behind her.

And suddenly

suddenly

all so very suddenly

she was alone.

* * *

She fell asleep, sometime later, to the hum of the helicopter and the vibration of the cell floor. She thought that air would be more comfortable but it turned out that the handcuffs blocked _everything,_ not just her ice. Besides - she would've tired out quickly.

And she dreamed.

 _Loki paced back and forth in his chambers._

 _Since he and Thor had prevented Ragnarok, Odin allowed him to be out and about - not locked up in a cell like some caged animal._

 _Caged animal._

 _Damn, the mere thought made him think more about the girl. His daughter.  
Aeria. _

_What in Odin's name was he going to do?_

 _It had been… how many years since Odin had learned of his daughter? It was only a few after Ragnarok… two years, then? She would be thirteen, almost fourteen. She had persistently stayed in the back of his head every day for those fourteen years, even more so since Odin brought her up. He should do something. He should -_

No, Loki, _he thought. Stop it. You can't do anything. She's not your child. She is just a girl - a Midgardian girl with, with powers like yours, who's being held prisoner, who's being tortured because of him."_

"Stop it, Loki," _he said to himself._ "She means nothing to you. She is but a weak, powerless, hurting little girl…."

 _She is nothing to him. He is nothing to her._

But I am hers, and she is mine.

 _She was just a girl - a useless, pathetic little girl. He had no control of her life, and she had no control over his._

But I am hers, and she is mine.

 _She was a mere child, a nothing -_

 _But it was done._

 _As Loki stepped through the blurred, swirling bridge, he was blinded by a fiery rage to whoever took his daughter._

 _He was coming._

Aeria woke with a start, her heart thudding in her chest and her head screaming which each pound. She was in a different cell. It was dark.

No, not dark.

Black.

Completely black.

And suddenly she couldn't breathe.

And suddenly the world was spinning.

And suddenly someone was screaming.

Someone was shouting.

Someone was clutching her head, tearing at her hair, screaming and screaming and shouting and shouting as memories, memories, dark and light and black and white. Someone was screaming. Someone was screaming.

"Let me out!" that someone screamed, that someone sobbed, amidst the black and white and dark and light of the world. "Let me out! Let me out!" and the someone screamed, and the someone sobbed, and the someone rolled on the ground, crying and hurting, in the black the black the black the black and she couldn't

she couldn't

she couldn't

 _breathe._

* * *

They saw her from the TV monitor.

Not only the Avengers but the agents, too. Many turned away.

It was too disturbing to watch.

Some sort of laser-light was being shone on her so that they could see, and she could not. She was in total, utter darkness.

"Are you trying to torture her?" said Bucky, oddly calm. It was a scary calm, a terrifying still. Fury sighed and crossed his arms, his eyes (eye) never leaving the screen. "Did you even read her file? She was held in isolation for weeks, Fury. You know what that does to people? _Do you?"_

No one said anything.

Weeks passed.

Aeria was silent after the first day.

No one told her of her fourteenth birthday, or that the Avengers were coming closer to finding the other children.

No one told her that Loki had figured out that she was in the custody of SHIELD.

No one told her anything, in fact.

She was alone.

Utterly, utterly alone.

When the hallucinations started, she kept having to remind herself that it wasn't real. None of it was. She refused to speak, to talk back to the mumblings that drifted through the air. She tried, once, to ask the demons (politely) to stop screaming. They were just becoming so loud, and they were hurting her head, and she couldn't think.

Her voice was scratchy and rough as she said, "Please stop your screaming, demons. I can't breathe."

The demons were telling her that she was a monster. They were telling her that she was nothing. She was _nothing._ She was a sad, weak, little, monster of a girl. Of course, these weren't her demons speaking. They hadn't spoke in a while. No, it was the mutterings of the agents instructed to tell her that. Tell her that she was worthless. Dangerous. A monster. A murderer. A killer.

On the 18th day of isolation, Tony visited her.

Not really, of course. That wasn't allowed. It was dangerous, they said. She was a monster. So he stood in front of the monitor and watched her for hours.

She was backed into the corner of the cell. Her hair was matted and dirty, her arms and legs red from scratching. She was shaking. Visibly shaking. Violently shaking. Her mouth was moving as if she was talking, but no sound came out. She was tapping her feet on the cell floor, over and over and over again.

Tony could barely watch her. He could barely watch this little-broken girl, who used to have a fire in her eyes, who would obsessively make guacamole and eat chocolate and raspberries and sing musicals around the tower and fly up to the ceiling and prank people with Peter and

and

and

where was she now?

* * *

Loki found her.

He still wasn't sure why he was doing this - it wasn't like he cared for the girl. She meant nothing to him. But nevertheless, she was blood. And no one should be held captive.

Ugh, SHIELD. They had spoiled his plans far too many times before. He smirked to himself, an eyebrow arched, looking up at the SHIELD compound. He was cloaked in magic, hidden from view. Of course, he could _easily_ fight through security, but he just didn't care for it. He preferred to stride past the agents, having a sense of pride that they couldn't see him.

The girl - Aeria, was her name? was hidden away in the lowest level, he knew. He stared at the agents as he passed them, at their odd, bright metal squares and small, silver rectangles and glowing shapes which they pressed their fingers too. He would never understand Midgardians. Hopefully, his daughter wasn't raised to be like… _them._

Loki sneered at a younger agent as he tripped on his own feet, his papers and books shooting out in all directions.

"Aw, so sad," he mocked. "Get up, boy. Go on."

But the boy would not. He sat, hugging a skinned knee. Loki rolled his eyes. "Go on. Get up! Get up, you fool!"

Nothing.

Grunted, Loki released his cloaking magic and stood before the boy.

A scream, a panic. He scooted backward. Loki sighed and stepped towards the terrified kid (who wasn't really a kid at all, more like 19 years-old).

"Go on, then," he snapped. "Get up. Stop acting so weak."

"Y-you-"

"Hm? Yes? What is it?"

"You're - you're - you're h-him -"

"Loki? Yes. I am Loki. Uh oh, better call the guards then, huh?" and he chuckled, and with a snap of his fingers, caused the boy to fly to his feet, books, and papers in hand. The boy screamed again, causing agents to turn their heads and see the god of Mischief.

"Call security!" someone shouted. Loki groaned.

"This is just wonderful," he muttered and held his hands up. "Thanks, boy."

"Call the Avengers!" another said. "Call Fury!"

"Who is it?" some idiot asked.

"Loki, you -" Loki bit his tongue. "Come on. What do I have to give to get a little recognition around here?"

With a smirk, Loki snapped his fingers and, a moment later was suddenly standing in the middle of the security room for the girl.

Tony Stark was there was well.

"Ah, old friends!" Loki exclaimed. All at once there were a hundred guns pointed at him - and he merely laughed. "Nice to see you again."

Stark turned to face him, his hands in his pockets, an unreadable expression on his face.

"What do you want, Loki?" he said, his voice heavy.

"Sir, I'm calling Fury," said an agent. Tony waved his hand dismissively.

"Don't," he sighed. "Loki, I'm guessing you're here to take Aeria away, aren't you?"

Loki stepped forward. "If I am, what are you going to do to stop me?"

And Tony looked at him, his eyes dark, his face low.

"Nothing," he said. "Just please, Loki. Don't get her killed."

Loki blinked.

That was not the answer he was waiting for.

Cautiously, he wandered over to the grand screen over by the window on the other side. It was displaying a dark room with little-to-no light and a shape huddled in the corner. Loki squinted, unable to make it out. The shape moved, tilting its face towards the screen.

Loki clenched his fists.

"Is that her?" he growled, whirling around. Tony was seated in a lounge chair, his head in his hand, rubbing his forehead.

"I'm sorry," Tony croaked. Loki was taken back. He had never heard - that was _not_ Tony Stark.

"Open it," Loki ordered.  
"Mr. Stark, sir -"

"Open it!" Loki snapped and began to press as many buttons as he could at once. "Open it, dammit!"

The girl in the room started to scream - a horrifying, ear-splitting, blood-curdling scream. The chains around her were glowing red and white.

"Stop it!" an agent cried. "You're hurting her!"

" _I'm_ hurting her?" Loki echoed, descending upon the woman. " _I_ am? _Me?_ You - you - gods, just open the cage and _stop it!"_

And so they did.

And Loki grabbed the girl and snapped his fingers.

And they were gone.

* * *

 _Definitely not my favorite chapter. Sorry if it was a little boring and for the delayed update. School._

 _I have total writer's block. Any help? Please, please,_ please _give me ideas!_

 _Also, review, follow, and favorite! Thank you all so much for the support!_


	10. Chapter 10

_Thanks for reviewing!_

FanGirlForever19: _Aw, thank you! And I've taken into account your idea, with a few tweaks, as you'll see later. :)_

Weaver: _Ha! Thank you! I'm so glad you like it._

Guest 1: _You got it!_

Guest 2: _Yep!_

Guest 3: _Oops (as you'll see later)._

Chapter 10

Aeria gasped.

Suddenly everything was bright - too bright. A blinding white, a searing pain. She doubled over, her face scrunched up, and continued to blink, rubbing her eyes.

Wait.

What the hell just happened?

"Are - are you okay?" said a voice. British. Aeria already hated him.

She stumbled back, continuing to blink rapidly.

"Wh-who - wha-"

The demons were gone.

The black was gone.  
Everything was gone.

A hand rested on her shoulder, cold - but comforting. Aeria looked up, continuing to blink.

"I can't see," she explained. "Too bright."

"Ah," said the voice. "Yes. I understand." There was a snapping of fingers and they were in a different place, less bright, and cooler, too. Aeria's eyes finally adjusted.

"Thanks. Who - oh. Huh."

Before her stood a man with long-ish midnight-black hair, vibrant green eyes, a crooked grin, and a suit with gold horns and a green cape. Loki.

Loki, Loki, Loki. There was something about - oh, yeah. He was her father.

Aeria gulped, taking a step back. "You're - you're Loki, aren't you?"

"Guilty," said Loki. Her father.

 _Damn._

Aeria rubbed the back of her neck and realized finally that the chains were gone. She grinned and clenched and unclenched her fists, letting cold (beautiful, beautiful cold) spread throughout her body. Frost crept up her skin, silvery blue, providing a comforting blanket. Loki stared at her, his smile faltering.

"So," he said.

"Yep," she replied.

"You're my daughter."

"Appears so."

"Interesting."

Aeria glanced around them, blinking a few more times and rubbing her eyes. They were still stinging - if you were surrounded by complete black for who-knows how many weeks on end, they would hurt, too.

"Where are we?"

They appeared to be in a room with shaded lighting, giving the walls a grayish tint. Loki glanced at the walls, the ceiling, and shrugged.

"Someplace on Earth," he said. "I do not know. Nor do I care."

"Well, _I_ care," Aeria huffed. "We have to get back to the Tower and let the Avengers know that I'm okay."

"Let _them_ know?" Loki sneered. "They sent you away! Cast you into isolation! Why should you care about them, and why would they care about you?"

Aeria's heart sank. She combed through her dirtied white hair with her fingers and frowned. "I don't - they didn't send me away. SHIELD did, cause I - I -" she stopped, her fingernails digging into her palm. Loki leaned forward, a smirk plastered on his face.

"Did what?"

"None of your business, _dad,"_ Aeria spat. Loki recoiled with a look of disgust.

"Fine. We will visit the Avengers Tower if we must, but know this, Aeria Lokidottir." (Aeria winced at the name.) "Do not be surprised if the Avengers act hostile towards you and I. After all, we are Frost Giants, yes?" He scowled. "We are the enemy. Foolish, weak, monsters."

"I'm not a monster," said Aeria, her voice small. Loki arched an eyebrow.

"That's where you're wrong, Aeria," he replied smoothly. "We are both monsters. Killers. Murderers."

"I'm not -"

"Do not deny it, daughter," Loki snapped. Aeria flinched. "We are not welcomed. We are outcasts. Rebels. We do what's right, but what's right for us is never right for them." A grin unfurled on his face. "But perhaps, when we see your beloved Avengers, I will get to have a chat with my brother again."

"And we can have guacamole!" Aeria exclaimed happily. She hadn't eaten anything good for the past whatever-weeks. Twice a day, every day, a tray containing a cup of water, a slice of bread, and a little bowl containing chicken broth appeared in her cell. More than once Aeria spilled it on herself - after all, she couldn't see anything. It was completely black, save for a little shaft of light speckled on the floor from the air filter above.

Aeria worshiped that little light.

Aeria and Loki stepped out the door. Instantly Aeria doubled over again, the light too much for her sensitive eyes. Loki ushered her back in and snapped his fingers. A pair of sunglasses appeared on Aeria's head, blocking out the light. Aeria blinked and glanced at her-her father.

"Uh, thanks," she said. "And how do you know what these are?"

"I searched for the thing that blocks the sun," he replied. "What are they?"

"You don't need to know."

And they stepped out once more.

The light was still harsh, but not nearly as bad. They were standing at the edge of a cobble-stoned street with buildings pressed together on either side. It was crowded - cars were rolling down the roads, people were running across, others were walking down the sidewalk with bags in their hands, people walked their dogs and pushed their carriages.

"Look for signs that can tell us where we are," Aeria instructed Loki. He frowned, as he wasn't used to little girls telling him what to do, but this made sense, and he complied. People stared at both of them as they wandered around, searching for any sign of where they might be - and if they were both a little smarter, they would've realized they could've just asked anyone.

"There!" Aeria called, pointing. "Salem, Massachusetts. Huh. That's kind of near New York, isn't it?"

"How would I know?" Loki muttered. Aeria rolled her eyes.

"Right. Now we just need a map. Do you have a phone?"

"A what?"

"Never mind. Come on, we'll figure it out. I'm pretty sure that if I go east or something… maybe west…."

"Hey!" Loki shouted, causing many heads to turn. He pointed at an old woman across the street. "You! You have a pho?"

"Phone," Aeria corrected.

"Phone?"

"I-I -" the woman stammered. Loki rolled his eyes.

"In the name of," he started, and marched across the street. "Hello?! Do you have a pho?"

"Phone!"

"Phone?"

"T-take it!" the woman cried, shoving her phone at the god of mischief. "Just take it!"

"Wonderful," he said with a smile and turned back to Aeria. "I've got it!"

"Jeez," Aeria said, groaning. "Loki, you do not just steal phones from old people!"

"Do you want me to give it back?" Loki spat. Aeria paused.

"No. Come on, come on. Let's figure out how to get to Manhattan."

* * *

" _How,_ exactly, did this happen?" Fury shouted.

Tony leaned on the edge of the table, his arms folded. He made one of the agents punch him in the face repeatedly so that it would look like he put up a fight.

"I don't know," he sighed. "I fought, Fury. I did. I really did. Loki just got past me. He got past all of us. I would've summoned my suit, but -"

"Don't bullshit me, Stark, we have video cameras," Fury growled. Tony rubbed his eyes, groaning.

"Then you should promote Agent Clarkson," he said. "Cause she got a mean right-"

"Shut the hell up!" Fury yelled. Tony bit his tongue. "Our main purpose was to keep the girl under surveillance so that she wouldn't -"

"No," Tony shouted, standing up and taking a step towards Fury. " _No,"_ and he jabbed his index finger at his chest. "You were telling Aeria that she was weak. That she was a monster, a killer. You kept her in isolation. You -"

"She is a killer!" Fury insisted. "Stark, she is not qualified to be an Avenger or an Agent of SHIELD. We don't even know whether or not she's on our side!"

"Of course she's on our side!" Tony argued. "Why wouldn't she be?"

"She has lived her whole life with Stane, Stark. On _his_ side."

"Are you kidding me? She didn't even know it was him!"

"We don't know that."

"You've read her file, Fury. You've seen the videos. Never in a million years would Aeria be on Stane's side."

Tony turned, his breath heavy.

Fury scowled. "Find her, Stark, and bring her to me."

Stark faced him once more.

"I'm beginning to think that _you're_ the one who's not on the 'good side,'" he muttered. Fury met his eyes.

"Do not test me, _Iron Man,"_ he said. "You heard what I said. Go."

And so Tony did.

* * *

As far as they could tell, the Avengers tower was empty.

"Where is everyone?" Aeria wondered out loud, staggering inside. She flew to Manhattan, clutching onto Loki. It was awkward - he was sort of helping, but his flying charms weren't that good and he kept losing altitude. She was already exhausted, her head pounding, her blood on fire, and flying hundreds of miles didn't help.

"Hello?" Loki called.

"Hello," replied JARVIS. Loki yelped. Aeria laughed and twirled around.

"Hi, Edwin," she said and glanced at Loki. "That's JARVIS, our AI."

"What is a… AI?"

"Artificial Intelligence."

"...Oh?"

"Like talking magic," she suggested, and Loki nodded in understanding.

"I see you're back, Miss. Aeria," JARVIS said. Aeria beamed.

"Yes, I am."

"I presume the Avengers know about this?"

"Er, yes they do."

"Wrong. I am dialing Mr. Stark right -"

"No!" Aeria cried, holding her hands up to the invisible force. "Please don't. I just… want to keep this a secret, for now, you know?"

"Aeria," Loki began, wandering around the floor, "What do you plan to do once the Avengers find out I am on Earth and you have escaped?"

"Celebrate?" Aeria muttered, shrugging. "I don't know. Come up with a plan. As a team, I mean."

"I do not think that the Avengers consider you as one of their own anymore, Miss. Aeria," JARVIS commented. Aeria's face fell.

"What do you mean?"

"You have exhibited dangerous and reckless behavior that resulted in many deaths. That is considered a crime. And since you escaped from the Zoo, I can only assume that that's where you'll be going when they find you."

Aeria huffed.

"Well, I -"

"The talking air is not wrong," said Loki, leaning on a countertop. "This is dangerous, my daughter. They will find both you and I and imprison us. Midgardians do not like people who are different than them, daughter."

"I'm _not_ your daughter," snapped Aeria, a fire lighting in her eyes once more. Loki's face split into a grin and he shrugged.

"As you wish, daughter."

"I'm - Ugh! Come on."

"Come on what?"

"We need to get you some better clothes. You can't be parading around in that gimmick of yours."

"Gimmick?" Loki echoed, glancing at his clothes. "This? This is Asgardian fashion! High-end beauty! _Better_ clothes? No!"

Aeria found him a rather fashionable black suit and tie. She started to pull his hair into a man-bun but he blatantly refused. Eventually, the two made their way back to the kitchen to get guacamole and chips.

"Aeria?"

They both whipped around. Loki raised his hand and Aeria grabbed it and forced it down, her fingernails digging into his hand. He grimaced.

Peter Parker stood before them, dressed in baggy pants, a science pun tee, and a black zip-up hoodie. Earplugs dangled from the neck. His backpack fell to the floor with a _thud._

"What the hell are you doing here?"

"Surprise?" Aeria offered with a shrug. Peter's mouth fell open and didn't shut.

"Wha-what - who's that?"

"This?" Aeria pointed to Loki. "Oh. This is. My. Friend."

"Hello," said Loki. Peter narrowed his eyes.

"He looks old," Peter observed. "Who is he? What's his name?"

"Lo-"

"Lloyd," Aeria answered. "His name is Lloyd Laufersun."

"Lauferson?" Peter repeated, raising an eyebrow. "Aeria, come on. Drop the act. Who is he?"

"I told you!" Aeria protested. "Lloyd Laufrey-Laufersun. He helped me escape. He used to be a SHIELD agent."

"Oh, yeah." Peter hopped onto the table. "How did you escape?"

"I told you," Aeria huffed. "My friend, _Lloyd,_ here, helped me. He, uh, turned good. And stuff."

"You mean he turned against the Avengers? SHIELD? The world?"

"Oh, you can't _honestly_ believe that the Avengers were for me being captured," Aeria drawled. Peter blinked and shifted around.

"Yeah," he mumbled, "I mean, yeah, none of us, I mean, I wasn't, I don't know about Steve, but Tony and me and Nat and, uh, I don't know about Thor, and -"

" _What?"_ Aeria shrieked. "They - no. That's beside the point. Anyways, this is Lloyd,"

"Hello," said Loki with a wave and a devilish grin, "My name is Lloyd."

"I know," said Peter. "She mentioned."

"You know," Loki began, wagging an index finger at the teen, "I don't like your tone -"

"Lo-Lloyd!" Aeria snapped. "Shut up!"

"Don't tell me to shut up," Loki growled. "I'm your -"

"Loose acquaintance and ally, yep," Aeria agreed. Peter's eyes narrowed further.

"Okay, Aeria? What's going on? Karen, call the Avengers. Tell them that Aeria's here."

"No!" she exclaimed. "Peter, no. Please."

"Too late," Peter said with a shrug. "Aeria, just tell me what's going on."

"Shall I smite this mor-"

"No!" Aeria shouted. "Loki, don't. I mean. Lloyd. Lloyd, don't.'

" _Loki?"_

"A slip of the tongue," offered Aeria. Peter gestured wildly with his hands.

"What the hell, Aeria? Loki? As in the god of Mischief?"

"And sorcery," added Loki. "Yes. My name is Loki Laufeyson. This is my daughter, Aeria Lokidottir."

" _Wait,"_ Peter practically shrieked. " _Daughter?_ Nope. Nuh-uh. Not gonna have it."

"Peter, please," Aeria tried, but he cut her off.

"Aeria, you lied to me," he said.

"Lied to you? I never -"

"Loki's your father? You're Asgardian?"

"I didn't -"

"Save it, Aeria," he spat. "You went off and nearly killed yourself. I could've helped you! I could've helped you find them -"

"This isn't your fight, Peter," Aeria protested.

" _Isn't my fight?_ They killed hundreds and hundreds of people. I wanted to help you find what they did to you! To the others!"

"It wasn't about them, Peter!" Aeria cried. "It wasn't about them! It was about _me._ I wasn't going to 'avenge' them. I was going to get my _revenge._ Yeah, for Brooklyn, but for myself. I was going to make them pay. I was selfish, Peter, and -"

"You still are! You're just so… so selfish, and murderous, and - you're a monster, Aeria. A monster."

Loki's fist clenched and edged towards the blade hanging from his pants.

Aeria stared at Peter, her friend.

Her friend.

 _Sorry,_ her brain told her.

 _I guess not._

"Peter?" she whispered. He hopped off the table and stalked away.

"That's it, Aeria," he snapped. "I'm getting SHIELD and the Avengers. It's over."

And he was gone.

And she was alone.

Save for dear old Lloyd Laufersun.

She stood there, silent, for a good five minutes, before Loki had the nerve to tap her shoulder.

"What?" she shouted, whipping around and slapping his hand away. Loki recoiled. "What do you want?"

"Asgard," he said.

"And? What about it?"

"We should go."

"As a vacation? Loki, what do you mean?"

"Escape to the Nine Realms," he said. "If my brother finds you, he will destroy both of us."

"I thought you, like, redeemed yourself."

"I still have no gained the trust of my brother, nor the Allfather, nor the Asgardians. Odin does not even know that I am on Midgard."

"I - I don't know," Aeria stuttered. "I can't. I have to rescue the other kids. The other gifted children."

"Leave that to SHIELD and the Avengers," Loki said. Aeria narrowed her eyes and folded her arms over her chest.

"You really believe that? That they'll rescue them and _not_ lock them up?"

"Well -"

"I want to, Loki," Aeria whispered. "Trust me. I want to escape more than everything. But I can't leave them."

"We'll bring them with us, then," suggested Loki. "I want them to be free as much as you do, daughter."

"I'm not -" Aeria sighed. "Yes. I guess. It'll be a difficult transition. I don't - yes. Okay. Let's do it. Let's rescue them and get the hell out of Midgard."

Loki grinned.

"Wonderful!"

* * *

 **And so they did.**

They rescued Ian William Montgomery first, from the Brazilian Compound. They rendered him unconscious so that he could sleep, be at peace. He had dark brown hair, a round face, and chocolate-brown skin. His body, though scarred, wasn't ruined as Aeria's was. She was thankful for that, that she was the one to bear the pain.

He was terrified.

Aeria knew the feeling.

Then it was Robin Ash Matthews, from the Kenyan compound. He was tall, with sandy-brown hair, a crooked nose, and tan skin. He seemed overly crooked - many teeth were crooked, his fingers were bent as if they were broken and not put together correctly. Again, though scarred, there wasn't such a burden of pain in his eyes.

He was terrified.

Aeria knew the feeling.

Then it was Madeline Felicity Waters, from the French compound. She was cute - small, thin, pale, with sunflower-blonde hair, leaf-green eyes, a splash of freckles. She was shivering, her arms clutched around her in her cell, bits of dried blood hanging from her skin.

She was terrified.

Aeria knew the feeling.

They were all unconscious when the two of them (Loki and Aeria, that is) loaded the three of them into a stolen pick-up truck. Aeria nearly laughed out loud on many occasions at the ridiculousness of everything that was happening. They were rescuing three fourteen-year-olds from prisons designed by Tony Stark's ex-best friend, who happened to be a psychopath who was supposed to be dead.

And it was wonderful.

 _Please review, follow, and favorite! I love you all!_


	11. Update

**Update**

Hey guys. I'm sorry if you were expecting a chapter - you probably were. I just wanted to say that I might not have a chapter up this week. I want to - I really do - but I have writer's block.

Insane writer's block.

I have a basic outline, right? But I just can't get the words to flow. So if you have any ideas - ANY AT ALL - please please please tell me. Anything at all. Or maybe just a little encouragement.

Thanks for sticking with me. Love y'all. :)


End file.
